by Anna King
‘Now, you behave yourself, mate, or you’ll get me hung. Worst still, your mum might walk out on me, and then I’d have to hire someone to help me out like I did when you lot was on holiday. Bloody useless they were an’ all.’
When Jane came back she looked at Josie suspiciously.
‘You woke him up, didn’t you?’
Putting a puzzled expression on her face, Josie answered, ‘Who, me? I never went near him. He woke up on his own.’
Shaking her head in mock irritation, Jane kissed her son then carried on working.
The morning flew by, and it was twelve thirty before there was a lull in the café. With just five tables occupied by women shoppers wanting only tea and cakes, Josie took her break while Jane served. She normally took at least fifteen minutes for her lunch, but with Annie absent, the amount of time varied from day to day.
She had finished her sandwich and was playing with the baby on her lap when Jane came through, her face subdued.
‘What’s up, love?’ Josie asked, concerned at Jane’s obvious distress.
Jane picked up Shaun and buried her face against his belly, much to the child’s delight.
‘Nothing, Josie. I can manage.’
‘Like hell yer can. Something’s upset yer… Or someone.’ Her eyes darted suspiciously to the door Jane had just hurried through.
Seeing the look on Josie’s face, Jane said quickly, ‘Look, don’t get upset, but… but Cathy Meadows is out there. She wants a pot of tea and a menu of the cakes available.’
Josie’s lips tightened.
‘Does she now?’
‘Josie, calm down, please. There’s no point in making a scene, that’s just what she wants. I shouldn’t have let her upset me. I’m not a child any more. Just give me a few minutes, then I’ll go out and see to her.’
‘What did she say to you? And don’t tell me nothing, Jane. She must have said something to upset yer.’
Jane nuzzled her baby’s cheek.
‘She… well, she asked me if it was true I’d had a baby, and… and she asked me who the father was. But it wasn’t just what she said, it’s the way she said it. You know, sort of spiteful; nasty like.’
‘Oh I know just what yer mean,’ Josie replied, her face grim. ‘Well now, seeing as how I’m the owner, it’s only right I should see to our special visitor.’
Jane’s arms tightened around Shaun’s squirming body, her heart racing. She knew what Josie could be like when in a temper; and boy was she in a temper. Following closely behind, Jane felt a sudden excitement course through her. If Josie was going to confront Cathy Meadows, she wanted to be there to see it; even if she was shaking all over with nerves.
Cathy Meadows was seated by the window, dressed as though she was going to the theatre instead of out on a shopping trip.
‘Well, well! Josie Guntrip in person. I wouldn’t have recognised you. I had heard you’d come into money, and I must say you look good on it.’
Cathy was peering up at Josie from beneath a wide, fancy hat. The hat, like her expensive silk costume, was a deep sky blue in colour. But it was the face that Josie concentrated on. It was still beautiful; beautiful but hard, cold even; and the painted lips were curved with disdain.
Waving a hand in the air as if to take in her surroundings, Cathy said with a smirk, ‘So this is what you did with the money. I must say, I was expecting something, shall we say, a bit more grand. I mean, with a name like The Tea Shop, one would expect a more selective clientele, instead of common market traders and bored housewives.’
An angry murmur could be heard as the women present took offence at the comment, but they remained seated, waiting with bated breath for Josie to speak.
Josie too was seething inside, but she kept her voice calm.
‘If that’s what you think, then I’m surprised you lowered yourself to come in.’
Cathy let out a tinkling laugh, a laugh she had cultivated to impress men; it did nothing to ingratiate herself among women.
‘Oh, come now, Josie, don’t get on your high horse. I simply commented that the name above the shop was slightly misleading, maybe even a trifle ostentatious, that’s all.’ She smiled up at Josie, but her eyes were hostile.
‘I think the word you’re looking for is pretentious, Cathy, not ostentatious. You really should look up the meaning of words before you use them.’
Jane looked on and listened with rising enjoyment, as did the rest of the customers, all silently urging Josie on, waiting to see the spiteful bitch taken down a peg or two.
Cathy’s smile faltered, but only briefly.
‘You are full of surprises, Josie. I didn’t know you had become so educated. Anyway, as much as I’d love to stay and chat, I have a busy afternoon ahead of me. So if you’d be good enough to bring me a menu, I’ll have my lunch and be on my way.’
Josie didn’t move. Instead she looked hard into the scornful face and said, ‘I’m sorry, Cathy, but you’ll have to find somewhere else to have your lunch… I don’t wait on whores.’
A concerted gasp reverberated around the room at Josie’s words. Behind her friend, Jane hugged her baby tight with glee.
Cathy’s face looked as if she’d been hit, and hit hard. Worse still, in those few, damning words, she had been forced to acknowledge the truth about herself. Gathering up her bag and gloves, she moved gracefully to the door and left without a backward glance.
As soon as the door closed behind her, Josie was surrounded by women, all laughing and congratulating her for the way she had handled Cathy Meadows. Josie received their heartfelt compliments before excusing herself. Once back in the kitchen, she sat down heavily at the table, her hands and legs shaking. She couldn’t believe what she had just said; not that she regretted it, oh no, definitely not. That slag had deserved every word, yet she couldn’t believe it had been her that had said it.
‘You were great out there, Josie. Oh, I wish I could see it all over again. And it’ll be all over the market by the end of the day, if not sooner.’
Josie tried to smile and found her teeth were chattering.
‘Pour us a cuppa, will yer, Jane. Gawd, look, I’m shaking like a leaf.’
‘Well, you didn’t show it, Josie, and that’s what counts. Here…’ Jane put a mug of tea on the table. ‘Get that down you. It’s not as effective as a drop of brandy, but it’ll have to do for now. We can celebrate properly when we get home.’
Josie picked up the mug and was alarmed to find she had to grip it in both hands. But though she was shaking on the outside, inside she felt a growing sense of pride in herself for having had the courage to speak out. It was a feeling that would stay with her for the rest of her life.
* * *
‘Are you listening to me, Barney? You’ve not said a word all evening. Aren’t you even a little bit annoyed at the way Josie treated me today?’
Barney was sprawled in an armchair, an empty brandy glass in his hand. Getting up to refill it, he glanced over towards the bed, where Cathy was sitting propped up by pillows, her bare arms hugging her knees over the quilt.
‘What d’yer want me to do about it? Go round and give Josie a good hiding? You sort it out between yer, I ain’t interested. D’yer want a drink?’
Cathy’s eyes screwed up in frustration. This was the last straw. She had expected Barney to be loving and sympathetic when he heard of the way Josie had spoken to her; instead, he looked bored to tears.
‘No, I don’t want a drink. I want you to listen to me, unless you don’t care any more.’
Barney sighed and sat back down.
‘Look, Cathy, you’re a big girl now. You can look after yourself. Besides, I’ve had a pig of a day. In fact it’s been a lousy week all round. I get enough grief at work; all I want right now is a bit of peace and quiet. Look, maybe we should give tonight a miss. Neither of us is in the mood for company.’
‘Company!’ Cathy screeched, and her voice grated on Barney’s nerves. ‘Is that what I am now – jus
t company!’
Barney sprang out of the chair and began to pace the room.
‘Give it a rest, will yer? You’re beginning to get on me nerves. Yer don’t wanna drink, yer don’t wanna go to bed, and yer don’t wanna go out, so what’s the point of yer stopping?’
Cathy stared at him wide-eyed, a tingle of alarm rippling down her spine. Barney wasn’t as attentive as he used to be. In fact, if she didn’t know better, she’d think he had someone else. Still, it wouldn’t hurt her to go carefully, just in case.
Pasting a seductive smile to her lips, she said warmly, ‘I’m sorry, darling. You’re right, I am big enough to fight my own battles.’ Patting the bed, she murmured, ‘Why don’t you take those clothes off and get in here with me?’
Barney downed his drink, his gaze flickering over the woman in his bed. There was a time when he would have jumped at the offer; now the sight of Cathy repulsed him. Since the accident his feelings for her had changed. It had been a gradual thing, and he had thought at first it was just a reaction to the aftermath of that terrible day. But her charms had continued to wane. Now, looking at her naked, inviting body, all he could see were the numerous other men who had enjoyed that same body. Suddenly he felt sick to his stomach. It was over. All he wanted now was to get her out of his bed, and out of his house. And he briefly wondered if this was how Rory had felt when he had walked out on her.
Turning away, he poured another brandy and said abruptly, ‘Get dressed, Cathy. I ain’t in the mood. Go on, hurry up, and I’ll take yer home.’
Cathy flinched at the cruelty in his voice. Suddenly she felt dirty and used. But if there was any walking out to do, she would be the one to do it this time. Having one man leave her was bad enough; she wasn’t going to let another one do the same.
Slowly she got out of bed and dressed, her mind trying to find a way to leave with her pride intact. She started to talk, just talk, saying the first thing that came to mind, anything rather than endure the awful silence.
‘I still can’t believe that Josie Guntrip had the cheek to call me a whore in front of the whole shop. Talk about the pot calling the kettle black. What does she call that scabby-faced little slag she’s so fond of? Huh! Looks as if butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth, don’t she? Well, she didn’t get that baby of hers playing marbles. Mind you, I was surprised. I mean, what man would want to—’
She screamed as strong hands grabbed her by the shoulders. Then she was being shaken like a rag doll.
‘What did yer say about a baby?’
‘Stop it. You’re hurting me.’
Barney stopped his shaking, but kept hold of her.
‘I said, what d’yer say about Jane ’aving a baby?’
Genuinely bewildered, Cathy stared into Barney’s wild eyes, then a glimmer of light began to break through the mist of her mind. No! she thought. Never in a million years! But why else would Barney be so… She began to laugh, softly at first, then louder and louder until her entire body shook with merriment.
Startled by Cathy’s reaction, Barney’s grip loosened, his eyes instantly wary. He should have known better than to make such a stupid slip. Cathy might not be a genius, but she was as sharp as a tack when it came to sniffing out any kind of dirt.
‘Shut up! D’yer hear me, shut up!’
But Cathy only laughed harder. ‘I can’t believe it… You and scarface. Bleeding ’ell, Barney, yer must have been well pissed if yer was able to give Jane Flynn one. Either that or yer bumped into her on a dark night. Oh! Gawd blimey, I can’t remember the last time I had such a good laugh.’
She paused a moment, wiping tears of merriment from her cheeks. She still couldn’t believe it, but the look on Barney’s face was a dead giveaway. What a turn-up for the books this was. And it couldn’t have come at a better time. Now she could leave him with her head held high and her pride intact.
Buttoning up her coat, she picked up her hat and gloves from the nightstand and walked, still chuckling, to the door. There she paused. Turning to face him, she giggled.
‘Don’t worry, Barney, your secret’s safe with me. I’ll keep it quiet for now. Who knows when I might be able to use it against yer? ’Cos you was going to dump me, weren’t yer?’ She stopped giggling, her voice becoming hard. ‘Now you listen to me, Barney Hobbs. If anyone asks, I dumped you, understand! If I hear anything to the contrary, I’m sure the Flynns will be only too pleased to find out who the mystery father is. Goodbye, Barney, see you around – maybe!’
Barney stood rooted to the spot, unable to fully take in what Cathy had told him. Jane had a child.
It had to be true. Even Cathy wouldn’t make up something like that. But why hadn’t he heard about it? News such as this travelled like wildfire around the East End. Then again, as he’d just told Cathy, he’d been having a devil of a time at work. If he’d stuck to his usual habit of having a drink after work he would surely have heard; that is, if it were true. And if it was, then… God Almighty!
Grabbing up his jacket from the back of a chair, Barney left the house at a run; his steps taking him in the direction of the Flynns’ address.
* * *
Rory was slumped by the cold, empty grate, a bottle of whisky in his hand. He’d already drunk half of it, but it still wasn’t enough to make the nightmares go away; it was never enough. He looked across to where his father normally sat, then to the sofa where he and Shaun would sprawl out after Sunday dinner, and felt the familiar prickle of tears start behind his eyes. Would he ever be able to forget Shaun, and what he’d done for him? He laughed harshly. Yeah, look what his brother had done for him. Sentenced him to a living hell, that was what his baby brother had done. Rory poured another drink. Maybe if he finished the bottle it would blot out the images that were branded into his brain, even if only for a little while. It would be enough; just a little time of oblivion was all he asked for these days.
The drink jumped in his hand as a loud banging resounded throughout the house. Getting unsteadily to his feet, he staggered to the door.
‘Yeah, what—’ He was flung back against the wall, helpless to stop the man from entering his house.
‘Where is she? Come on, Rory, where is she? And don’t try lying to me, ’cos I know. D’yer hear me, I know!’
Rory shook his head to clear the fog from his mind. He thought at first he was hallucinating. He’d certainly been hitting the bottle lately, but no, he wasn’t imagining it. Barney Hobbs was in his house demanding to see her, whoever her was.
‘What yer going on about, Hobbs? There’s no one here but me. And even if there was, what business is it of yours?’
Barney stopped his pacing, looking at Rory properly for the first time since barging into the house. And what he saw shocked him almost as much as the revelation that he was a father.
‘Good God, man. What the hell yer done to yerself?’
Rory shambled by, leaving behind a sour, fetid smell that made Barney wrinkle his nose in distaste. This wasn’t the Rory he knew. Not this broken, smelly shambles of a man. And then he realised. Nobody knew he was the father. Jane must have kept the truth to herself as she had promised. He hesitated, not knowing what to do next. He had to see Jane, but obviously she wasn’t here. And if she wasn’t here, then there was only one other place she could be. He looked out of the window to the house opposite. Suddenly he was afraid. He hadn’t stopped to think when he’d left his house in such a hurry. All that had been in his mind was seeing Jane, and maybe having to fight Rory to get to her. Now he had to build up his courage to go over the road to see Jane… and his child. Even thinking the word made his head spin. He had a child. The fact that it might not be his didn’t even enter his mind.
Blowing out his cheeks, he started rehearsing what to say when Josie opened the door… if she opened the door. After hearing how she had sent Cathy packing, he wasn’t too anxious to confront her.
‘Hey, Barney. Why don’t yer come an’ ’ave a drink with me? Come on… I don’t like drinking
on me own.’ The slurred voice came from the room in front of him, and Barney followed the sound.
Rory was slumped in an armchair, his mouth slack, his clothes stained and wrinkled. Barney had never imagined he would ever feel pity for Rory Flynn, but he did at this moment. The man must be going through hell to have let himself go in such a way. He looked little more than a tramp, the poor bastard. But as much as he sympathised with Rory’s predicament, there was nothing he could do to help. Furthermore, he wanted to get as far away from this… this stranger as possible.
‘Sorry to trouble yer, Rory. My mistake. I’ll let meself out.’
Rory didn’t even look up. Barney let himself out quietly, then, taking a deep breath, he crossed the road.
* * *
Jane had put the baby to bed, and as always, she looked over the road to see if the lights were on. She was worried sick about Rory, but he refused to let her help him. All she could do was bring him hot meals and hope that he ate something. If only her mum would come home. She would soon have Rory back on his feet. She was about to close the curtains when she saw a man’s shape crossing the road. As he stepped under the lamppost she let out a loud gasp of fright. It was Barney, and he was coming this way. Cathy must have told him about the baby. Oh Lord. What was she going to do now? All hell would break out once the truth was known.
Her mind in a whirl, she flew downstairs, landing at the bottom of the stairs just as the knock came at the door. There were a few moments’ silence, then the knock came again.
Josie came along the hallway and saw Jane standing there as if stuck to the spot.
‘What on earth’s the matter with you? Why didn’t yer open the door?’
‘Don’t open it, Josie, please.’
Her hand on the knob, Josie paused.
‘What’s the matter, yer daft cow? Who’s out there yer don’t want to see?’
Jane sank down on the bottom step. It was no use. She couldn’t pretend any more. Shaking her head, she said simply, ‘Go on, then, Josie. Open the door, but you’d better brace yourself for a shock.’