Pride of Walworth

by Mary Jane Staples

  Suits me, said Pa, which it did, very much. He didn’t say Scotland Yard knew now that the American woman’s sparklers had landed in Mister Horsemouth’s mitts. But he did say he was much obliged for the way Mister Horsemouth had looked after his better half. Glad you mentioned it, said Mister Horsemouth, seeing it was upsetting hearing about all the complaints you had. Pa said he was upset too, hearing about you cutting down on my missus. Don’t give me any sauce, said Mister Horsemouth, you just keep your nose clean until I’m ready to use you again. Right, said Pa, I’ll wait for you to let me into some jobs that’ll be financially lucrative, and I’ll also wait for the rest of my cut. Yes, say in about four or five months, said Mister Horsemouth, also known as Brains.

  What a crook, thought Pa, but he said a cheerful and friendly goodbye before hanging up. He knew he’d covered himself. He’d established an excellent reason for his release and made himself look innocent of what was about to befall Mister Horsemouth and his gang of what Ma called common criminals. Pa had always been touched that Ma hadn’t seen him as one of them. He didn’t like to feel he was common in any way.

  Returning home, with interested neighbours noting his jaunty sailor’s walk, he found Ma was still out, so he went up to see the lodger and to say hello to him. Mr Lukavitch was most happy to meet Ma’s better half.

  ‘Corblimey tophole, so you are the friend of our friend,’ he said. He was working, but not at bead-polishing. He was a naturally talented jewel-cutter and polisher, but not a law-abiding one. Being law-abiding kept a Polish immigrant poor. Being the other way about meant he had money in the bank. ‘You are out, you have been set free? Bloody good, eh? Pleased to meet you, I think. How did it happen?’

  Pa told him. He knew all about the lodger and what he was doing here. He was altering the shapes of stolen jewels and handing them to Tosh Fingers every Sunday. Tosh got worried the Sunday when flu kept Mr Lukavitch in bed, which was why he’d appeared the following day to collect the stuff. Pa hadn’t been able to make much of a protest about Polish Toby using Ma’s upstairs top to carry on his work, not without risking being done up very painfully. The consolation was that Toby’s rent was very welcome to Ma.

  ‘Ah, you saved the life of a warder?’ said Polish Toby. ‘Most unusual, I believe, eh?’

  ‘Temporary fit of insanity,’ said Pa, who rarely sounded like a Hackney-born cockney. ‘I forgot what he was at the time. Still, it came in useful. Now, a message from Brains. You’re to get out. Right away. Now. This afternoon. Meet him in the Black Bess pub this evening. Take everything with you. You won’t be coming back.’

  ‘How bloody sad,’ said Polish Toby, ‘I’ve had tophole lovely kindness from Mrs Harrison.’

  ‘I trust she didn’t overdo it,’ said Pa.

  ‘Excuse me, old cock?’

  ‘Never mind, just get packed.’

  Polish Toby said a taxi was necessary, because of the largeness of his trunk, into which he had to fit his folding machine. Pa said he’d go and find a taxi while Toby was doing his packing. First, however, he went down to the parlour and inspected the right pedal of the piano. Ruddy horrors, the little packet wasn’t in place. Some crook’s half-inched it, he thought. I think I’d better have a word with Nick, he’s the best one to talk to. It’ll be sad if I’ve been done down by my own family. No, wait a bit, I think Nick and Alice tipped me the wink when they said they’d make sure the piano wasn’t sold, that it had valuability. I think that was a way of telling me they knew where my investment was. But where is it now? If Nick and Alice are looking after it, I can compliment myself for having brought up a reliable son and a caring daughter. Ma, of course, can take some of the credit. No doubt about it, a good woman’s worth her weight in gold watches.

  Now where’s Ma got to?

  Ma had gone up West. Well, she still had those two fivers Pa had slipped to her out of the goodness of his heart, and it was just possible they weren’t duds. She could try changing one. Not in a bank, of course, nor in any of the local Walworth shops, nor down the market. An honest woman couldn’t land a local shopkeeper or stallholder with a banknote that might be a bit dubious. It wouldn’t be right. But a West End shop, well, that was different. West End shops were made of money.

  So, dressed in her best coat and hat, and putting on the style, Ma entered a shop that wasn’t too posh and chose some very nice hair ribbons and hankies for the girls. She tendered one of the fivers in a casual and ladylike way, and the assistant didn’t even hold it up to the light. She gave Ma change of four pounds, fifteen shillings and ninepence with no questions asked, would you believe.

  Wisely, however, Ma decided not to use another shop to get the second fiver changed. She instinctively felt it wasn’t a good idea to scatter dubious banknotes around in the West End. Of course, hers might be genuine, but it was as well to remember that Pa, unfortunately, still had a little bit of the devil in him when it came to chancing his arm. In any case, she could buy lovely frocks for Amy and Fanny and a broderie anglaise blouse for Alice in a quite fashionable dress shop in the Walworth Road. And they’d be a lot cheaper than in the West End. Still, Ma did stay around long enough in Oxford Street to use some of the change in a Lyons teashop. She’d had a sandwich before leaving home at twelve-thirty, and in Lyons she treated herself to a pot of tea and a currant bun. She thought about Nick and that lovely girl, Annabelle Somers, and she felt what a pity it was that Nick couldn’t get serious about her, or about any girl until Pa was home. Mind, Annabelle Somers dressed and talked very posh, and might not want Nick to take up with her. Just as well, thought Ma. Lordy, when Pa does get out, he’s got to do the right thing by his son and daughters, he’s got to go straight. If he doesn’t, I’ll knock his head off with me stew saucepan, the iron one.

  Ma finally arrived home at ten minutes past three. When she walked into the kitchen she found a sailor waiting for her. She stared and gaped.

  ‘Hello, my old darling,’ said Pa, ’is that your best titfer you’re wearing? Dash me if you don’t look like an Ascot filly.’

  Ma went weak at the knees and fell down. Fortunately, Pa caught her halfway to the floor and sat her on his lap, where he gave her a kiss and a bit of a saucy cuddle. Ma gasped a request for her smelling-salts. Pa told her she didn’t need those, that he’d bring her round himself. Whereupon, in due regard for his promise, he gave her several loving smackers, which not only brought her round but made her tell him to remember they weren’t alone in the house, that Mr Lukavitch, the lodger, was upstairs. Then, of course, she asked him what he was doing here in a sailor’s uniform, he hadn’t escaped from the Navy, had he? She said Navy because of the walls having ears.

  Pa told her a story about saving a warder’s life. He didn’t tell her it was a put-up job, that another warder had sent a huge boulder crashing down on a given signal. Nor did he tell her it would have missed Mr Brinkley, anyway. Not that old Brinkley was confident it would. Pa also refrained from telling Ma the real reason for his release was because he’d blown the gaff on Mister Horsemouth, the brains behind the jewel robberies. No, he convinced Ma he’d earned parole on account of his life-saving act. He explained how and why he’d acquired the able seaman’s uniform. He’d wanted to look the part to any of Ma’s friends and neighbours who might be about when he reached Browning Street.

  Ma was most touched by that bit of loving thoughtfulness, and felt more overwhelmed than ever by happy events. She was also quite faint. So Pa, a handsome and manly gent, and still young at heart, carried her into her bedroom and began a different kind of overwhelming, just as Mrs Evans had thought he would. Ma, bless her, became so faint she didn’t know what to do about his devilry.

  She could only gasp, ‘Albert ’Arrison, oh, I never knew the like in all me born days. I can’t ’ardly believe this.’

  However, Pa, despite being set on re-establishing himself as her living breathing husband, was more loving than hurried. Ma, accordingly, didn’t feel she could actually complain.


  ‘Well, yo-heave-ho, Mabel, dashed if you aren’t still a pretty woman.’

  ‘Albert ’Arrison, oh, in me own house in the middle of the afternoon and the lodger upstairs, where’s your respect?’

  ‘I’ve got it with me, Mabel, and the lodger’s left. He had to go in a hurry, to join a Polish relative.’

  Ma, lovingly overwhelmed, gasped faintly a minute later, ‘Albert, oh, I’ve still got me best hat on.’

  ‘Don’t worry,’ murmured Pa, ‘it’s not in the way.’

  Nick and the girls were overwhelmed themselves by the reappearance of Pa in the bosom of his family. They listened to the story of his act of bravery, an act that had resulted in his release on parole. He also told them that sometime during the week he had to go to Woolwich Arsenal where, according to the Governor of Marsham, a job was waiting for him.

  ‘Crikey, Pa,’ said Amy, ‘d’you mean an honest job?’

  ‘He better had mean just that,’ said Ma.

  ‘Well,’ said Pa, his paternal cheerfulness spreading over his family, ‘being on parole, as I am, and having promised your Ma to be the soul of honesty, I’ll postpone going into business for myself until—’

  ‘You’re not goin’ into business for yourself now or ever,’ said Ma, fully recovered from his act of devilry.

  ‘No, Pa, you’re not,’ said Alice.

  ‘I second that,’ said Nick.

  ‘So do me and Fanny,’ said Amy.

  ‘We don’t want you goin’ out and findin’ wallets any more, Pa,’ said young Fanny, ‘it upsets Ma. I found a wallet down the market once and we took it to the police station and got a reward for being honest, didn’t we, Ma?’

  ‘It made me very appreciative of what honesty can do for a fam’ly,’ said Ma, ‘and I ’ope your Pa’s learned to be appreciative too. He’s goin’ to take the job at Woolwich Arsenal and stick to it, or else.’

  ‘Or else what, Ma?’ asked Alice.

  ‘Boil you in oil, Pa,’ said Nick.

  ‘Pa, you’ve just got to be good,’ said Amy.

  Pa studied his family. He couldn’t say he still didn’t have a feeling for using his natural talents, but no more could he say he wasn’t remarkably happy at being back with his wife, son and daughters. Perhaps holding down an honest job wouldn’t actually hurt him, and there was always the chance of being transferred to the stores once he’d discovered the best way of going about it.

  ‘Well, I’d not be your Ma’s favourite gent if I couldn’t count me blessings,’ he said. ‘I’ll take the job and stick to it. I wouldn’t want to commit the mortal sin of being ungrateful to Warder Brinkley for having his head in the way when that boulder was coming down. You can inform all your friends and neighbours I’ve been granted an honourable discharge from the Navy for saving an officer from drowning and for downing my fair share of Chinese pirates.’

  The girls laughed. Ma smiled. Nick looked as if a new world was dawning. Pa out of clink and doing an honest job was all he could have asked for at this particular stage in his life. He thought of Annabelle, a tease, a minx and a delight.

  ‘It’s funny our lodger movin’ the very day you come ’ome, Pa,’ said Amy.

  ‘Oh, I had the pleasure of meeting him before he left,’ said Pa, who hadn’t mentioned the bloke to the Governor or the law. ‘He asked me to give all of you his regards. He seemed a very sociable cove.’

  ‘Yes, he was very sociable with Ma,’ said Fanny, ‘and her teapot.’

  ‘Alice, give that girl’s bottom a smack,’ said Ma, ‘then let’s all give thanks that although your Pa misfortunately got above ’imself when he shouldn’t ’ave, he made up for it by doin’ a life-savin’ act that got ’im out of the Navy. I must say ’e looks very ’andsome in ’is battleship uniform.’

  ‘He ought to have some medals,’ said Amy.

  ‘He could buy some down Petticoat Lane one Sunday,’ suggested Nick.

  ‘Well, we’d all be proud to see your Pa wearin’ medals,’ said Ma.

  ‘I’d wear them with modesty on the right occasions,’ said Pa.

  ‘But would it be honest to wear bought ones?’ asked Alice.

  ‘Well, perhaps it wouldn’t be genuine honest,’ said Ma, and frowned a little. Then she perked up. ‘Still, it would be very deservin’,’ she said.

  Ma was never too proud to stretch her principles, especially when she had change in her purse from a dud fiver.

  After supper, a bit of a scratch meal because Ma was happily disorganized, Pa spoke to Nick in the parlour.

  ‘About the family piano, Nick, I wonder—’

  ‘Enough said, Pa.’

  ‘I haven’t said anything yet, my lad.’

  ‘No need to, Pa, and might I point out I’m now twenty-one and addressed as Mr Harrison at the office?’

  ‘Don’t come it,’ said Pa, ‘just tell me if you know that something’s gone missing from the piano.’

  ‘I suppose you mean your confidential savings,’ said Nick. ‘Yes, Alice and I found them. The glue came unstuck.’

  ‘Ah,’ said Pa. ‘Well,’ he said breezily, ‘if you’d let me have them—’

  ‘That’s all, Pa,’ said Nick, ‘except that Alice had a little talk with me ten minutes ago, and we decided that if you go back to picking pockets or selling gold watches, we’d take the little packet to the police station and tell them where we found it.’

  ‘’Ere, ’old on,’ said Pa, shocked into Bow Bells dialect, ‘am I ’earing me own flesh and blood layin’ down the law?’

  ‘Something like that, Pa.’

  ‘Ruddy ’ell,’ said Pa, ‘you’d shop your own dad?’

  ‘Something like that, Pa.’

  ‘I ain’t believin’ it,’ said Pa. ‘You mean them confidential savings of mine are goin’ to sit around not doin’ anything useful for me and your Ma?’

  ‘No, they’re going to do something,’ said Nick, ‘just as soon as you go back to your old ways.’

  ‘It’s blackmail,’ said Pa.

  ‘Yes, I know, Pa, and so does Alice,’ said Nick. ‘But we need this family to be fairly respectable to help us have a reasonable future. Alice would like to meet a decent bloke and I’d like to qualify for reasonable prospects. If you get me.’

  Pa blinked. Then his cheerfulness surfaced.

  ‘Strike a light,’ he said, ‘I’m over a barrel.’

  ‘Better than being in the Navy fighting Chinese pirates,’ said Nick.

  Pa roared with laughter.

  Nick opened the door to visitors later. Cassie, Dumpling, Freddy and Danny sort of poured into the passage.

  ‘Yer dad’s ’ome,’ said Dumpling.

  ‘So we ’eard,’ said Danny.

  ‘We’ve come to share your happiness,’ said Cassie imaginatively.

  ‘Pleased for yer fam’ly, Nick,’ said Freddy.

  Nick took them into the parlour for the moment, where they let him know how pleased they were for his Ma. Cassie said a striving mother who was husbandless had to be a joyful woman when he turned up out of the China Seas. Dumpling said good on yer, Nick, and slapped his back, which nearly put him down for the count.

  ‘Me mum saw ’im, yer know,’ she said. ‘She was at the gate and she saw ’im comin’ down the street in ’is uniform and kitbag.’

  ‘How did he get in his kitbag?’ asked Freddy.

  ‘Freddy, you daft or something?’ said Dumpling.

  ‘I only asked,’ said Freddy.

  ‘Talk to ’im, Cassie,’ said Dumpling. ‘He’s all right when ’e’s playin’ football, but when he ain’t ’e’s a bit like Danny, daft as a broom ’andle that’s lost its ’ead.’

  ‘Now, Dumpling,’ said Danny in a proprietary way, ‘there ain’t no cause to suggest me and Freddy’s—’

  ‘Don’t answer me back, or I’ll sit on yer,’ said Dumpling, who was going to fight like the clappers to get the upper hand as Danny’s better half. ‘We ain’t ’ere to argue the toss, but to compliment Nick and ’is fam’ly on
’aving his dad ’ome on leave.’

  ‘He’s not on leave,’ said Nick, ‘he’s home for good, having served his time.’

  ‘Oh, what a remarkable happy feeling,’ said Cassie, and gave him a kiss.

  ‘Nick, does yer dad play football?’ asked Dumpling.

  ‘Come and meet him,’ said Nick, ‘and we’ll find out if he’d like to put some dibs into our kitty, and I daresay Ma will boil the kettle for a pot of tea.’

  ‘Crikey,’ said Dumpling, ‘I’m so overcome for yer Ma, Nick, that I ’ardly mind at the moment about livin’ soppy ever after with Danny.’

  Chapter Twenty

  TUESDAY EVENING

  The law had been trailing Tosh Fingers since the hour of Pa’s release. The law knew Tosh as an ingratiating and slippery customer who’d been fined a few times for taking street corner bets on behalf of a character called Monty Cooper, otherwise known as Mister Horsemouth, a moneylender and bookmaker. Tosh was also known for collecting loan repayments on behalf of Cooper, but the local police had never suspected he was capable of serious infringements of the law, or that Cooper had nefarious interests outside his moneylending and bookmaking business.

  Inspector Clark was after both men, consequent on Knocker Harrison spilling the beans. Monty Cooper, he’d said, was the brains behind the jewel robberies, including the old job relating to the American woman. Cooper had taken possession of the loot from that, said Knocker, but you won’t find it on his premises, nor will you find any sparklers from the recent jobs. And when you do get him to cough up with what he does have somewhere or other, you won’t recognize most of it. He gets it altered by a pro. I don’t know which pro, said Knocker. Your best bet is to tail Tosh and his guv’nor, Monty Cooper, until one of them leads you to the sparklers, or better still, to catch Tosh and the accomplices on their next job. There’ll be a next one. Ask your men not to wear loud hobnailed boots or bowler hats while they’re following Tosh. He’s got very fine-tuned ears for the sound of boots, and an eye for the law’s bowler hats.