‘’Ello, Mrs ’Arrison, me and me old man ’eard you’d got a lodger. I must say ’e seems a respectable gent to look at, but of course I ain’t been forward enough to ask ’im ’is name.’
‘It’s Mr Loovakish,’ said Ma.
‘Well, I never, is that foreign? It sounds remarkable like Russian. He ain’t one of them Russians that come over years ago to save their ’eads bein’ chopped off by them bloodthirsty Bolsheviks, is ’e, poor man?’
‘No, he’s a Polish gent,’ said Ma, ‘and ’e came over just after the war.’
‘My, yer don’t say. I thought all Polish gents ’ad black whiskers. Or p’raps that’s Russian, I’m never sure. Anyway, it’s not ’is fault ’e was born Polish, nor your worry, I ’ope. I mean, ’e don’t look the kind that’ll murder you and yours in yer beds.’
‘Oh, I wouldn’t ’ave any lodger in me house that ’ad them kind of looks, Mrs Williams,’ said Ma. ‘Mr Loovakish is a very kind and pleasin’ lodger.’
‘Well, a pleasin’ lodger must be real pleasin’ to a woman whose ’usband’s away like yours is, Mrs ’Arrison. Is ’e still in China, like?’
‘There’s no end to ’is labours,’ said Ma. ‘Nor to them Chinese pirates,’ she added.
‘It’s ’ard on yer, Mrs ’Arrison.’
‘Don’t I know it,’ said Ma.
‘Never mind, I’m sure yer kind lodger won’t stop bein’ pleasin’,’
‘How kind,’ said Ma.
On Friday afternoon, Mister Horsemouth made one of his so-called helpful calls on Ma and asked about the lodger. Ma said she’d got no complaints about Mr Loovakish, it was that man Tosh Fingers she objected to, so she’d be obliged if he’d see to it that Mr Fingers didn’t come round again. Mister Horsemouth had the sauce then to say he didn’t take any orders from tuppenny-ha’penny females, and she was to remember she was costing him money. Ma told him in return to kindly note she knew where it was coming from, and that there was no such thing as a tuppeny-ha’penny female, that they were all worth a sight more than he was. Mister Horsemouth said bugger me or something like that, and he also said that in future he’d just be paying the rent for her and no extra. That’s still costing me, he said. Ma went stiff with umbrage. Anyway, said Mister Horsemouth, Nick could earn a lot more oof than he’ll ever earn in insurance, so if he wants to better himself, tell him to come and see me.
‘I told ’im not likely,’ said Ma to Nick later that day. ‘Mind you, ’e was very compliment’ry about you, sayin’ you could be turned into a smart young swell favourable to ladies that ’ad got more money than sense. I told ’im to show ’imself out, that he wasn’t goin’ to ’ave the chance to lead you astray like ’e led your Pa.’
‘If I’m here next time he calls,’ said Nick, ‘I’ll knock his head off, shall I, Ma?’
‘No, best not to do any damage to him,’ said Ma, ‘or ’e might not give us any allowance at all. Best to put up with ’is sauce and them big teeth of his.’
Ma was very practical.
It was the Saturday before Christmas, and as a newspaper weather expert had aptly forecast, the day was bright and crisp and even. Boots stopped his car outside the entrance to Brockwell Park, and two young ladies alighted.
‘Thanks, Daddy,’ said Rosie.
‘Yes, thanks, Uncle Boots,’ said Annabelle.
‘I’m not asking what it’s all about,’ smiled Boots, and drove away.
‘Well?’ said Rosie, clad in a belted blue coat and a woollen hat. The blue of the coat emphasized her fairness. Willowy and naturally elegant, she was, at five-feet-seven, an inch taller than Annabelle, whose strawberry-red coat enriched her brunette colouring.
‘Well what?’ said Annabelle.
‘Shall we take a look?’
‘Yes, come on,’ said Annabelle, ‘it was your brainwave, so you’re the last one who should hang back.’
They walked through the open gates into the park, making for the football pitch.
‘Are you sure he’ll be here?’ asked Rosie.
‘I only know he said he played here on Saturday afternoons. Oh, lor’, I still can’t see exactly how it’s going to help.’
‘Oh, you simply wait for inspiration to strike,’ said Rosie.
‘Supposing his girlfriend is here watching him?’
‘There, that’s inspirational, my chicken,’ said Rosie. ‘Simply put yourself next to her and outshine her. You do have quite a fatal beauty, and all’s fair in love and war. Oh, Romeo, art thou here, Romeo?’
‘Rosie, I’ll bite you.’
‘Sorry, lovey.’
They passed the netball arena and took the path to the football pitch. The time was twenty minutes past two. In the distance, a match was in progress. The kick-off time in mid-winter was two o’clock. They noticed spectators standing close to the touchline. There were two separate groups, one of a few young men and a solitary girl, the other of six girls together with a man and his dog.
As Annabelle and Rosie approached, they heard one of the six girls yell.
‘Freddy, get up! Break his leg!’
Rosie and Annabelle stopped on the path. The six girls had their backs to them. The yelling girl, in a maroon coat, had long raven black hair tied with a red ribbon.
‘Rosie, that’s Cassie, Cassie Ford,’ said Annabelle.
‘And there, sweetie, is Freddy himself, Uncle Sammy’s young brother-in-law,’ said Rosie. ‘Heavens, the excitement, can Romeo be here too? Didn’t you tell me that Freddy’s a close friend of his?’
‘If you’re going to keep on talking about Romeo, Rosie Adams,’ breathed Annabelle, ‘I’ll send you home. It’s bad enough – oh, there he is.’ Her eyes ran about, tracking a long-legged figure down the pitch at a little distance behind Freddy and to his left. Freddy was moving forward, the ball at his feet. A burly opponent came charging at him, and Freddy slipped the ball sideways and forwards, giving Nick the chance to run straight on to it. One of the girls, young-looking, shouted at him to shoot. Nick picked up speed, ran at the ball and struck it with his right foot. He ballooned it high over the opposing goal. The six girls yelled in disgust.
The young-looking one shouted, ‘Rubbish! Go home!’
And Rosie and Annabelle heard a plump girl say, ‘I just don’t know what’s come over Nick recent, he plays ’eroic one week and like a fairy on a rockcake the next.’
‘He’s in love,’ said Cassie.
‘Oh, me gawd,’ said Dumpling, ‘it don’t bear thinkin’ about, the captain of me footballin’ Rovers goin’ in for all that soppy stuff.’
‘It’s not all that soppy,’ said Cassie, watching the action while unaware of the presence of Rosie and Annabelle at a little distance behind her. Rosie was killing herself at what she was hearing. Annabelle, watching Nick, had a jumpy pulse rate.
‘Annabelle,’ whispered Rosie, casting a glance at Nick, ’is that your beloved?’
‘Oh, you Rosie, I’ll really biff you in a minute,’ breathed Annabelle.
Rosie took a longer look at Nick, who was helping Danny at the moment to ward off an attack by the opposing forwards. She understood Annabelle’s romantic interest a little better then, for Nick was very much a young man, tall, vigorous-looking and with fine straight legs. All the boys contemporary with Annabelle and who competed for her favours would seem no more than boys to her compared to this healthy young man. Rosie watched him as the ball came sailing over from the wing. He used his head to meet it, but his head miscued and the ball angled limply away and fell at the feet of an opponent, who booted it straight at the Rovers’ goal. Charlie Cope, much to the relief of temporarily agonized supporters, got a gallant hand to it and turned it round the goal for a corner.
Young Fanny expressed her feelings again.
‘Wake up, Nick, can’t you!’
The man’s dog barked in sympathy with her disgust.
‘Oh, me failin’ ’eart,’ groaned Dumpling, ‘’e nearly gave a goal away there. Alice, what’s up with �
��im?’
Rosie and Annabelle heard a slim, attractive young lady say, ‘I don’t think he knows if he’s out of bed yet, Chrissie.’
Oh, thought Annabelle, that’s his girlfriend, I suppose. Alice. Oh, blow that, she looks nice. What am I doing here?
‘Annabelle,’ whispered Rosie, ‘shall we let Cassie know we’re here?’
‘No,’ whispered Annabelle, ‘I’m going home.’
‘No, you’re not, sweetie, this is all too exciting,’ murmured Rosie.
The corner had been taken, and Nick broke free with the ball. If he’d known Annabelle was present and watching, he’d have probably fallen over his feet. As it was, her image kept intruding all too often, as it had ever since he’d seen the look of dismay on her face. However, his footballing skill took over now, and he hit a splendid pass to Starving Crow out on the left wing, and away went the likeable follower of Moses. Nick ran at speed down the field, and Starving Crow saw him coming in his role as attacking centre half. He angled the ball through the opposing defence, and Nick, coming up at a rushing pace, made full amends. He hit a beauty.
The six girls leapt in delight.
‘Goal! Goal!’
‘Oh, me ’ero!’ Dumpling bounced about in joy. ‘What a goal. Ain’t you proud of yer brother now, Alice?’
Annabelle didn’t miss that remark. She supposed one of the others had to be his one and only. Not Cassie, of course, and not the plump girl, or the very young one.
‘My goodness,’ said Rosie, ‘that really was magic, Annabelle.’ Rosie knew something about football. She and her brother Tim, together with Boots, sometimes went to see the local amateur team, Dulwich Hamlet, play. ‘Did you see it? A dream of a goal, and he’s not bad himself, either. He’s the one, is he, the light in your eyes?’
‘Blessed saints, will you stop laughing at me, you horror?’
‘Sorry, sweetie.’ Rosie simply couldn’t help being tickled by Annabelle’s leap into the giddying whirlpool of romantic confusion. Having had boys at her feet from the age of fifteen because of her fascinating looks, Annabelle had suddenly lost her head and her composure. Oh, poor love. Rosie herself was immune to all that. All her deepest affections were directed at her family, especially at her adoptive father.
‘Perhaps we should say hello to Cassie,’ said Annabelle.
‘And meet the other girls to see which one is your rival?’ said Rosie.
‘No, you thing, I’m not going to be so stupid. Come on.’ Annabelle braced herself, and she and Rosie left the path and walked over the turf towards the six girls. ‘Hello, Cassie, surprise, surprise,’ said Annabelle.
Cassie swung round. She stared for a moment at the two girls, nieces of Freddy’s brother-in-law, Sammy Adams. She knew Rosie and Annabelle as well as Freddy did. Her face, tingling in the crisp cold air of the December afternoon, broke into a delighted smile.
‘Crikey, where did you two come from?’
‘Oh, through the gates five minutes ago,’ said Annabelle. ‘We were just enjoying a walk in the park.’
‘My, don’t you both look nice and posh?’ said Cassie.
‘I don’t mind looking nice, Cassie,’ said Rosie, ‘I hope I don’t look posh.’
‘Oh, you don’t ’ave to be ashamed of it,’ said Cassie, ‘it becomes you. And my dad says I look a bit posh meself on Sundays, and Freddy says so too.’
‘Why are you watching football?’ asked Annabelle, resolutely keeping her eyes off Nick.
‘Well, Freddy’s playin’,’ said Cassie, ‘it’s our own local team and all us girls are supporters. If they didn’t ’ave us, they’d just be any old team.’
‘Oh, yes, I can see Freddy,’ said Rosie.
‘Yes, isn’t he smashin’ in his jersey and shorts?’ said Cassie.
Rosie, teasing-eyed, pointed and said, ‘And so’s that one, isn’t he?’
Cassie turned. Following the pointing finger, she said, ‘Oh, that’s Freddy’s captain, Nick Harrison. He’s just scored a marvellous goal, and we’re winning two–one. Would you like to meet our supporters?’
‘Oh, we won’t stop,’ said Annabelle. She was having a very trying time attempting to be her normal composed self. For a seventeen-year-old, she could be very composed. Now she actually felt nervous in case Nick caught sight of her. Oh, lor’, he’d think she was running after him. She’d feel a lot better if she left.
But the other girls were all looking now, and Cassie, a happy character, liked to bring people together.
‘Look,’ she said to the other supporters, ‘here’s two of Freddy’s relatives, they’re like ’is cousins, really. That’s Rosie and that’s Annabelle. And this is Chrissie, and these are Nick’s sisters, Alice and Fanny, and this is Meg and this is Julie.’
‘Oh, pleased to meet yer, I’m sure,’ beamed Dumpling, ‘I’m one of our team meself, yer know, I’ve played in goal and centre forward.’
‘Crikey,’ said Annabelle in astonishment, ‘you haven’t, have you?’
‘Not ’alf,’ said Dumpling, proudly, ‘I’m one of the blokes mostly. You can ask Alice, she’s got a high standin’, bein’ our captain’s eldest sister.’
Rosie, killing herself again, but able to hide it, said to Alice, ‘Is that right, then, is she one of the blokes mostly?’
‘Not mostly,’ said Alice, liking the looks of these well-dressed girls, ‘just all the time.’
‘Oh, yer couldn’t ’ave been more compliment’ry, Alice,’ said Dumpling happily. The ref blew a long blast on his whistle. ‘That’s ’alf-time,’ said Dumpling to Rosie and Annabelle, ‘you can meet our beloved Rovers now, they’re easy the best team in Walworth.’
The Rovers were heading for the touchline. Annabelle, glimpsing Nick among them, panicked.
‘Oh, we’ve got to go now, we’re in a hurry,’ she said.
‘Oh, are we?’ said Rosie.
‘Yes, come on,’ said Annabelle. Too late. The sweaty Rovers were swarming in search of their half-time lemon, engaging in boisterous chat with the young girl, the one called Fanny. Annabelle’s sixth sense warned her that someone had picked her out, and the next moment that someone was beside her, exuding the warmth that came from physical exercise.
‘Jumping crackers, it’s not you, is it?’ It was a whisper in her ear. Annabelle could have stuck pins in herself for being so tongue-tied. Helplessly, she turned her head. There he was, a young man of the outdoors in his jersey and shorts, knees slightly muddy, hair a little awry and a wondering smile on his face. Annabelle felt like making a complaint. Well, he was so in control of himself, while she was all confusion. It shouldn’t be allowed to happen to a girl. Inherited courage came to her aid.
‘Oh, hello,’ she said brightly. Dumpling came further to her aid, although unconsciously.
‘That’s Freddy’s cousin Annabelle, Nick,’ she said, ‘we’ve all just met her and Rosie. That’s Rosie, she’s a cousin too. Well, that’s what Cassie said. Oh, Nick’s our captain, by the way.’
‘Fascinating,’ said Rosie, ‘I don’t think we’ve ever met a football team captain before, have we, Annabelle?’
‘Well, if you don’t mind me sayin’ so,’ said Dumpling, ‘it’s a bit of an honour to meet the Rovers’ captain. Mind, I won’t say he don’t chuck ’is weight about sometimes. Other times ’e gets it into his ’ead to keep sayin’, “Now look ’ere, my girl.” But ’e can’t ’elp it, it’s on account of him ’aving a clerkin’ job in the City.’ With the other girls mingling with the rest of the team, Dumpling had this particular stage to herself. ‘Nick, you ’aven’t said ’ello to Freddy’s cousins.’
‘I’ve been listening to you, Dumpling,’ said Nick, giving away nothing of the fact that the appearance of Annabelle out of the blue was the most welcome event of the week, never mind if it posed complications. In the crisp afternoon light she looked stunning. ‘Pleasure to say hello,’ he said, ‘but don’t take too much notice of Chrissie, she’s known for going over the top. So you’re Freddy’s cousi
ns.’ As Alice was within earshot, Nick had said nothing so far to indicate he knew Annabelle. ‘Lucky old Freddy.’
‘Did someone call?’ Freddy inserted himself into the group. ‘Well, look who’s here, Sammy’s favourite nieces. Might I say you’re both lookin’ like Christmas presents? ’Ave you met Nick?’
‘Oh, yes, we’ve had the honour,’ said Annabelle.
‘Does he give autographs?’ smiled Rosie.
‘Crikey, Nick, what a thought,’ said Dumpling, ‘you could sell yer autograph for a penny a time for the team kitty.’
Nick laughed.
‘All right, Dumpling, get the street kids lined up, and I’ll sign at seven for sixpence or fourteen for a bob,’ he said. ‘But let them know photographs will be extra.’
Rosie thought then that he was utterly right for Annabelle. He really was a fine-looking young man with grey eyes like her father’s. Her adoptive father’s. No wonder Annabelle had lost all interest in her many boyfriends. And no wonder some girl had already laid claim to the young man. Heavens, how was Annabelle going to cope with that?
‘Shall we put our names down for a photograph each, Annabelle?’ she said. ‘Signed, of course.’
Annabelle, recovering some of her normal poise, said, ‘I’ll be thrilled.’
‘I’ll be surprised,’ said Nick.
‘I’ll have a banana,’ said Freddy.
‘Signed?’ said Rosie.
‘I never ’eard of anyone signing a banana,’ said Dumpling.
‘What brought you two girls to the football pitch?’ asked Nick, taking a slice of lemon from Fanny as his young sister entered the group.
‘We were just strolling,’ said Rosie, ‘and we saw Cassie.’
‘What’s the name of your team?’ asked Annabelle.
‘Browning Street Rovers,’ said Dumpling. ‘Everyone knows the Rovers in Walworth. Nick’s well-known too, bein’ our famous captain.’
‘When he’s not playin’ rubbish,’ said Fanny.
‘Excuse Fanny,’ said Nick, ‘she’s one of my sisters.’
‘Well, don’t tell ev’rybody,’ said saucy Fanny, ‘it’ll make it harder to live with for me and Amy and Alice.’
Pride of Walworth Page 20