The Cockney Girl

by The Cockney Girl (retail) (epub)

  ‘No,’ said Rose. That was one subject she definitely didn’t want bringing up, but she’d spoken sharper than she’d intended, and immediately wished she hadn’t. She didn’t want anyone sharing her suspicions, least of all Jess: she had quite enough on her plate already.

  ‘There’s plenty o’ work on the nurses’ uniforms, see, Jess,’ she said briskly. ‘Cos there’s plenty of call for nurses to wear ’em. An’ not just for the soldiers either. There’s this ’flu thing started round ’ere. It’s killed ’undreds already. Yer ’ad it down in Kent yet?’

  ‘Not this year we ain’t, no,’ said Jess. She didn’t question her mother’s refusal to discuss Jack; she just presumed that Rose didn’t want her getting upset about him all over again.

  ‘Seems a shame, yer know, one of the girls at work was tellin’ me about ’er chap what got it. Killed ’im, it did. An’ they’d just got ’emselves engaged. Don’t seem right, do it?’ Rose plucked at the blades of dusty grass. ‘Them boys comin’ ’ome from France. All sorts wrong with them. Trench fever, gas, legs missin’. Then they go an’ get ’flu an’ that does for ’em. Don’t seem right at all. I’m glad she’s too little to understand all this sufferin’.’

  The two women watched Sylvia playing contentedly in the bright summer sun.

  ‘Yer reckon yer job in the factory’ll still be safe even if the war really does end soon?’

  ‘I ’ope so, Jess, cos if yer dad ’as gone I’ll need the money all right.’

  ‘Don’t say that, Mum.’

  Rose’s eyes filled with tears. ‘I think we’ve got to accept ’e ’as gone, Jess. Not a word after all these months. Every time the boy comes along on ’is bike, I ’old me breath, waitin’ for ’im to knock on the door with the telegram.’

  ‘’E’ll be all right, Mum. Yer wait an’ see.’

  ‘Please Gawd ’e is, but if he ain’t, I wouldn’t be able to manage on the pittance they give to the widows,’ Rose said, gazing unseeingly at the ground. ‘Couple of bob a week, that’s all they get. I dunno. They wanted our husbands an’ sons but they don’t want to look after us when they’ve gone.’

  This time it was Jess who tried to change the subject. ‘’Ow’s the others down Burton Street doin’, Mum? ’Ow’s Mabel managin’?’

  ‘She ain’t too bad,’ said Rose, wiping her cheeks with her sleeve. ‘Got a nice little job in the ’ospital. It was sad though, ’er last kid, the middle one, died after Christmas, just a couple o’ weeks after she lost her oldest. So she’s got no ’usband an’ no kids at all now. All alone she is, but it was a blessin’ really. They was such pathetic little things. Always so sickly.’

  ‘I’m sorry. Poor Mabel. Never ’ad much luck ’as she?’

  ‘No, poor cow.’

  ‘Been a lot lost round ’ere, Mum?’

  ‘Everyone in Poplar seems to ’ave lost someone. But I reckon there’s been a lot lost everywhere, Jess. Florrie’s oldest boy copped it, yer know.’

  ‘Arthur? Aw, Mum, that’s terrible.’

  ‘Yeh. When ’e went off in ’is uniform, the twins thought it was wonderful. Cheered ’im off, they did. Wavin’ flags they’d made an’ everythin’. Out there two weeks, ’e was. Didn’t even ’ave a chance to post ’is first letter ’ome to ’is mum. The twins don’t think it’s so clever now. Thank Gawd they wasn’t old enough or they’d ’ave gone an’ signed up with Arthur.’

  ‘Arthur, eh?’ Jess clicked her tongue. ‘I knew Florrie’d lost ’er ’usband but I never knew about ’er Arthur. Wally was a nice bloke, Mum, wasn’t ’e? A real good ’un. Remember down ’oppin’, when ’e left that money for Mabel an’ the kids?’

  ‘Yeh. ’E was a good ’un all right.’

  ‘Don’t seem possible they’re all dead.’

  ‘I didn’t write to yer every time it ’appened to someone round ’ere, Jess, or the letters would ’ave been all that an’ nothin’ else. Yer ’ad enough to think about.’

  ‘Yer always thinkin’ about everyone else, Mum, I don’t know ’ow yer do it. With all the aggravation yer’ve ’ad, yer still think about other people.’

  ‘There’s enough wickedness in this world without me addin’ my two penn’orth.’

  ‘I ’ope I can learn to be as good as you are, Mum.’

  Rose stroked her daughter’s cheek. ‘Yer good enough, gel, believe me. Yer always ’ave been.’

  Jess bowed her head. ‘Yer make me feel ashamed when I think ’ow I lied to yer when we was down ’oppin’.’

  ‘Yer was a kid, an’ yer made a mistake. Yer didn’t mean no ’arm. Yer got carried away. An’ we’ve all been stupid at times, Jess. An’ look at that little angel.’ Rose nodded towards her granddaughter. ‘We shouldn’t forget to be grateful for what we’ve got in life.’

  ‘Yer sound like Dad,’ said Jess, her voice quavering.

  ‘Yer couldn’t pay yer ol’ mum a better compliment, love.’

  ‘’Ow did Win take it when Arthur died?’ asked Jess. ‘They got right close once Florrie ’ad the twins.’

  ‘I don’t think Win even knows, Jess. When ’er dad died she went an’ married some right no-good from Stepney Green. An’ ’e upped an’ run off with some bird from Aldgate. Left Winnie with no money an’ two babies to feed. She wound up doin’ a moonlight. Florrie did ’er pieces. It was ’er spoke to the landlord to get ’em the rooms in the first place, see. She ’ad to find the two-weeks’ rent what Win owed.’

  ‘Poor old Win,’ said Jess, looking at her happy child playing with the flowers in the sunshine. ‘Like yer said, we should remember to be grateful for what we’ve got. An’ I am, Mum. I really am.’

  ‘An’ me, Jess. In the middle of all this stinkin’ war I get to be a nan. Me little girl with a young ’un of ’er own. I wish yer dad could see ’er. ’E’d be so proud. But ’e knows all about ’er. I wrote regular and told ’im all the news.’

  ‘I’m glad, Mum.’

  ‘Here you are, Nanna.’ Sylvia toddled over to where Rose and Jess were sitting on the grass. With a very serious expression she placed the completed chain over her grandmother’s head and arranged it around her neck. ‘You’re pretty,’ she said, cocking her head to one side to admire her work.

  * * *

  As they walked back to Burton Street Jess found it hard to believe that, with all the sadness and devastation, life went on as usual. An Indian toffee man, a fruit stall, a sea-food barrow, a muffin man, and even an elderly hurdy-gurdy player all still plied their trade at the kerbside.

  ‘Some things don’t change, do they, Mum?’

  ‘Yer right there,’ said Rose. ‘Just look ’oo’s spotted us.’

  Florrie Baxter came rushing out of her house towards them, her eyes fixed on Sylvia. ‘I knew it,’ she bawled at the top of her voice. ‘It’s Jessie Fairleigh. An’ ’oo’s this then?’

  ‘This, Flo, is me granddaughter,’ said Rose proudly. ‘She made this necklace for me, didn’t yer, sweet’eart?’

  * * *

  ‘Don’t cry, Nanna.’

  ‘What’s goin’ on?’ Jessie yawned as she stumbled into the kitchen, still only half awake. She raked her fingers through her sleep-tousled hair which hung loose round her shoulders.

  ‘Nanna’s crying, Mummy,’ fretted Sylvia. ‘Look.’

  ‘All right, darlin’, yer go back up to bed an’ play with yer dolly. There’s a good gel. I’ll stay with Nanna.’

  ‘Is she all right, Mummy?’

  ‘Yeh. She’s got a bellyache, that’s all. Remember, like yer ’ad when yer et all them apples?’

  Sylvia nodded wisely. Her nanna crying now made sense in terms of her little world. She was relieved enough by the explanation to happily do as her mother told her.

  Jess waited until the sound of her daughter climbing the stairs had stopped.

  ‘Mum?’ Jessie knelt down by her mother. ‘Tell me, what’s wrong?’

  Rose held out the envelope she had been clutching. ‘I ’eard the bike comin’ along the
road, Jess,’ she said between great gulping sobs. ‘An’ I knew. I just knew.’

  ‘Dad?’

  Rose nodded and held up the telegram.

  The two women wept as though they would never stop.

  ‘I loved ’im so much, Jess.’

  ‘I know, Mum. I know.’

  Chapter 19

  Celebrations

  ‘Jess. Yer in there?’

  ‘Yeh, come in, Lil. I’m gettin’ Sylvia dressed in the kitchen.’

  Lil sat herself down at the table. ‘’Ello, beautiful. Mummy making yer look nice for the party, is she?’

  ‘Yes. And Nanna made me this dress.’

  ‘Yer’ll be the prettiest girl there,’ said Lil. ‘She’s a real credit to yer, Jess. Talks lovely an’ all.’

  ‘She’s me little country bumpkin, ain’t yer, Sylvie?’

  Sylvia giggled at her mother’s teasing.

  ‘’Ow’s it goin’ out there?’ asked Jess, brushing her daughter’s hair round her fingers to form bouncing golden ringlets.

  Lil puffed out her cheeks and shook her head. ‘Yer don’t wanna know,’ she said. ‘I ’ad to come in ’ere to get away from ’em for a while. I couldn’t stand it no more. They all wanna be in charge. All tellin’ each other what they should be doin’. But no one’s doin’ nothin’, of course. They’ll never get it ready by this afternoon.’

  ‘Now, who’s shoutin’ loudest and doin’ least of all?’ mused Jess. ‘Let me think.’

  ‘Florrie Baxter,’ Jess and Lil said in unison.

  ‘Florrie Baxter,’ echoed Sylvia, laughing with delight at the new game.

  ‘You three ain’t doin’ too bad yerselves,’ said Ted, scratching his bare chest and yawning as he walked into the kitchen. ‘Woke me up with all yer noise.’

  ‘’Ello, Ted,’ said Lil. ‘’Ow’s the arm?’

  ‘Still ’urts, but it’s gettin’ better, thanks, Lil.’ Ted bent down to his niece. ‘An’ what’s goin’ on ’ere, Sylvie? Why are they dressin’ me best gel up like a little princess?’

  ‘I thought they shot yer in the arm, not in the ’ead,’ said Lil. ‘It’s the street party, yer big nit.’

  ‘Aw, yeh. I forgot,’ he said, hooking his braces up over the shoulder without the sling. ’Oo’s gonna make us a cuppa tea then?’

  Lil let out a loud, disbelieving laugh. ‘Huh! Make it yerself. Yer know I saw ’im down The Star last night, Jess. ‘Ad one too many I reckon. Made ’is brain go soft.’

  ‘Got it in one, Lil,’ said Jess.

  ‘Sod me, if a geezer ain’t entitled to get pissed the day war ends,’ said Ted, wide-eyed with hurt at their playful accusations. ‘An’ what the bleedin’ ’ell am I doin’ standin’ around ’ere lettin’ meself be nagged by women? I’m an ’ero, I am. An’ I’m a bloody corporal an’ all.’

  ‘Still me little brother though, ain’t yer? An’ if yer want a cuppa, well, there’s the kettle,’ grinned Jess, flicking him round the ear.

  ‘Don’t hurt my Uncle Teddy,’ wailed Sylvia, grabbing Ted protectively round the legs.

  ‘That’s right, angel, yer tell ’em. Come on,’ he said, picking her up with his good arm. ‘Yer come with Uncle Ted an’ we’ll go outside an’ see what Nanna’s got for us to do. I dunno, Sylv, surrounded by women, ain’t I?’

  Sylvia chuckled appreciatively at her uncle.

  ‘Don’t forget ’er coat, Ted,’ called Jess after her departing brother.

  ‘Yes, Sergeant Major, sir!’ he called back, before skipping nimbly over the front step and slamming the street door.

  ‘’E’s lookin’ well, Jess,’ said Lil, cutting herself a thick doorstep off the loaf and spreading it generously with marge.

  ‘’E is most of the time, Lil, but at night ’e ’as ’orrible dreams still.’

  ‘An’ I’ll bet ’e’s got an ’orrible ’angover this momin’,’ said Lil, spraying crumbs as she spoke. ‘I left The Star at gone two this mornin’ an’ they was still at it. ’E was dancin’ with me little sister, if yer don’t mind. An’ me Mum was leadin’ the singin’, of course. Talk about a show-up. Yer should ’ave seen ’er.’

  ‘She don’t change, do she? Yer can always depend on Elsie for a laugh.’

  ‘Yer wouldn’t say that if yer ’ad to live with ’er. It’s like Casey’s Court down our ’ouse, with ’er an’ the gels. If they ain’t fightin’ an’ rowin’ about somethin’ or other, they’re singin’ an’ laughin’.’

  ‘Don’t complain, Lil. I’d rather ’ear a bit o’ life about the place. There ain’t been a lot of laughin’ in ’ere over the last few months, I can tell yer.’

  ‘Sorry, Jess.’

  ‘That’s all right, Lil. I don’t wanna moan, but it don’t seem possible, that’s all. I keep expectin’ Dad an’ Sammy to walk in through that door. Same as they always did.’

  Lil stood up. ‘Come on, gel,’ she said decisively. ‘Get yer coat an’ ’at. We’ve got a party to go to.’

  ‘Yer go on, Lil, I’ll be out in a minute.’ She shook her head. ‘I promise. An’ make sure ’e’s put Sylvia’s coat on, it’s perishin’ out there.’

  Jess ushered Lil, still protesting, out of the kitchen. She listened for the front door to close then took an envelope from her skirt pocket. She opened it, read the contents, then tore it into shreds. It was another letter from Robert Worlington begging to see her and Sylvia. Leonore must have got the hint by now, thought Jess; she hadn’t heard from her for weeks. But the regular pleas from Robert were beginning to worry her. She really hadn’t expected him to be so persistent. She didn’t want to leave Rose again, but she didn’t have much choice. There was no sign of Robert stopping pestering her, and one day he might turn up out of the blue and steal Sylvia away from her. She had no choice; she would have to get away.

  Jess sat down and wrote a letter, addressed the envelope and put it on the mantelshelf behind the clock. She would post it first thing in the morning. Her worries and plans would have to wait until she could buy a stamp, and anyway, today was a celebration. The war was over and Burton Street was going to say good riddance to it with a right old cockney knees-up.

  * * *

  The party began sedately enough with the neighbours eating and drinking large quantities of sandwiches and tea that had been set out on the tables draped with Union Jacks. They organised games for the children and stood around talking. But when the landlord from The Star beckoned the men over to help him, and crates of ale replaced the plates and teacups, the mood was soon a whole lot jollier.

  After swallowing a few drinks, Elsie persuaded someone to drag the piano from her front parlour out into the street, the singing and dancing started, and the party really got under way. The residents of Burton Street were joined by neighbours from the surrounding area, as well as by unfamiliar, but equally welcome guests who had simply been passing by and had been caught up in the festivities. Burton Street was packed with joyful, dancing people.

  Jess was partnering Lilly Dorkin in a fair stab at a foxtrot when someone tapped her on the shoulder and asked politely, ‘Is this an excuse me? May I?’

  Jess turned round smiling broadly and put out her arms to join her new partner. But when she saw who was asking her to dance she backed away.

  ‘Don’t be shy, Jess,’ urged Lil, pushing her towards the handsome soldier. ‘Just cos ’e’s got an officer’s uniform. ’E won’t bleed’n’ bite yer.’

  The man took Jess in his arms and whirled her away.

  ‘What yer doin’ ’ere?’ asked Jess, her face white with shock. ‘Yer never said in yer letters yer was comin’.’

  ‘I’m not stupid, Jess. You’d have run away from me again, wouldn’t you? I didn’t want to make that mistake twice.’

  ‘Yer’ve got no right comin’ ’ere.’

  ‘I know how you feel, Jess, but I must speak to you. You wouldn’t answer my letters.’

  ‘Bloody right I wouldn’t.’

  ‘You must hear me out.’

 
‘Aw, must I?’ she asked sarcastically.

  ‘Please. I don’t intend to make a scene. I don’t want to alarm Sylvia in any way.’

  ‘She ain’t ’ere,’ said Jess, too quickly.

  Robert looked at her, then gestured with his head. ‘That’s Sylvia, isn’t it? The little girl sitting on the kerb, the one with the golden hair and the beautiful face. The one who looks exactly like her mother.’

  Jess’s eyes opened wide with alarm.

  ‘When I saw her sitting there, the image of you, it was like a miracle. I spoke to her, told her I liked her dress, and she smiled. Oh, Jess, she’s so beautiful.’

  Jess backed away from him, staggering into the dancing couple behind. She pointed her finger close to his face. ‘Yer keep away from ’er, do you ’ear me?’

  ‘If you agree to hear me out.’

  Jess didn’t answer; she just let Robert take her by the arm and guide her, ashen-faced, through the crowd, away from the music and dancing.

  ‘I’ll give yer five minutes,’ she said, ‘an’ don’t yer dare make any trouble. Or I’ll get me brother on to yer.’

  Jess’s drama had not gone unnoticed. ‘’Ere, Rose,’ said Florrie excitedly. Despite her problems, she still found the time to be keenly interested in whatever happened in Burton Street and most of the surrounding neighbourhood. ‘’Oo’s that your Jessie’s goin’ off with? Wasn’t it that…’

  ‘I’m sure I didn’t see,’ said Rose instantly and truthfully. ‘I was ’avin’ a dance with Joey, as I’m sure you noticed. An’ anyway, it’s no business of mine. She’s ’avin’ some fun, Florrie, that’s all. The war’s over an’ it’s a party, see? So why don’t yer go an’ enjoy yerself? An’ leave me alone.’

  She turned her back on the open-mouthed Florrie and spoke to Sylvia who was still sitting on the kerb next to her Unde Ted, dapping her hands to the music. ‘Want a drink, darlin’?’

  ‘Yes please, Nanna.’

  ‘I’d ’ave thought yer’d ’ave taken more interest in what she did, after what ’appened,’ said Florrie to Rose’s back.