All Fall Down (32 page)

George moved in, nodding a warning to Walter and Charlie.

Morell shook Annie off. She stumbled hard against the till. ‘I
done what I should have done when I first clocked what they were up to, that's all. Same as any man would.'

‘Watch it.' George made sure that Annie wasn't hurt, then lifted the counter, knowing that Morell would take up the challenge. The sailor would be a difficult customer; strong and belligerent. ‘No need to get nasty. Let's take it easy, shall we?' Drinkers paused to watch developments, the piano music came to a sudden halt.

Worried about Edie, Annie rang the bell behind the bar for Hettie to come down. ‘Run along to Edie's flat,' she whispered. ‘See how she is.'

Meanwhile, the men squared up to one another; Bill Morell versus George, with Charlie Ogden and Walter on hand if need be.

‘It's like that, is it?' Morell's face suffused with anger. ‘That's the line-up; three against one.'

‘We're not looking for any trouble.' George's eye was steady. He wanted Morell off the premises. ‘Only, no one lays a finger on Annie.'

‘She laid hands on me first.'

‘Yes, and you go round shoving women, do you?'

This hit home. ‘Tell her she should mind her own business.' He'd noticed Hettie slide out of the door; the women had put two and two together, it seemed. Now it wouldn't be long before they discovered what state Edie was in. Even Morell didn't know how bad she was; unconscious certainly. As things began to stack up against him, he hit out.

George saw him lunge. He sidestepped, then put out an arm to stop Morell crashing against the bar. He caught him and wheeled him round, but Morell shoulder-charged him, catching George low in the midriff, winding him and sending him back against the bar instead. As George bent forward, arms across his middle, Morell got him on the chin with a double-fisted blow. Then he kicked at his ribs as he toppled and fell. It was the signal for Walter and Charlie. Everyone else sprang from their stools for a better view, as the two men piled in to grab an arm each and drag Morell clear of George who lay on the floor. George heaved himself to his feet
just in time. Morell broke free, snarling and. hurling himself about, head down, fists whirling. He went for George again, but this time his opponent was ready. He warded off Morell's punches and got in a couple of his own; good, solid ones that stopped him in his tracks. Charlie and Walter crouched like wrestlers, arms wide. George had his fists up, waiting for another attack.

‘Go on, George, fix him!' someone yelled from the smoky back of the room.

Morell jabbed and swore, George parried.

‘My, Bill, you do look queer!' came a catcall from the back.

‘Just you wait, he ain't even warmed up yet.' Others had seen Bill Morell take on three, even four men and still stay standing. ‘Them chuckers-out don't stand a chance!'

Dimly aware of their encouragement, he whirled round and charged at Charlie, the slightest of his opponents. He cracked his fist into Charlie's jaw and had the satisfaction of seeing him reel.

‘That's enough!' George ran and seized him from behind. He locked both arms under Morell's armpits and dragged him off, hoping that Charlie would have enough sense to roll out of the way of the vicious kicks. His own strength was under a severe test as he hauled Morell off his feet and he was glad when Walter moved in to pinion the sailor's lower half. Together they carted him bodily from the pub.

‘Spoilsports! Boo!' There was disappointment that the fight hadn't gone the distance. But this was only the young element at the back.

‘Good riddance.' Dolly righted a couple of stools en route to Charlie, who was back on his feet, his lip cut and bleeding badly.

‘That's it, show's over.' Annie grabbed a teatowel and called them to order. She attacked a stack of wet glasses. ‘Anyone would think we didn't have enough to do, fighting the Jerries.' She spoke sternly, giving the impression that Morell was a minor nuisance, soon got rid of. The Duke didn't encourage rowdiness; it was a small, friendly local, a home from home.

‘Annie, call a doctor!' Hettie came racing back from Edie's flat, not even bothering to ask after George and the rest. ‘Edie's in a bad way. Tommy's with her. He says we need a doctor quick.'

‘Morell?' Annie went straight to the phone.

Hettie nodded. ‘He's beaten her up. It looks bad.'

She dialled the number, waited.

‘Tommy says he'll kill him. He swears he will. You should see her, Annie. Her face is all bruised and cut. She's lying there unconscious and Tommy don't know what to do for the best. Oh quick, Annie, hurry up or it'll be too late!'

‘I'm as broad-minded as the next person,' Gertie told her son, pulling pints and serving steadily. ‘And I've always given you plenty of rope to hang yourself with. But this time I'm telling you loud and clear, Meggie Davidson ain't the girl for you!'

Ronnie slammed a crate of bottles onto the floor. She'd roped him in as soon as he'd set foot in the place, and now Meggie had to sit forlorn in the corner, waiting until his ma had finished finding him urgent jobs to do.

‘Lay off, will you?'

‘There's no point beating about the bush, is there? Straight up, I'm sick of it, Ronnie. Every time you get leave and waltz in here, there she is hanging off the end of your arm. I never see nothing of you because of her, and I'm your mother, in case you'd forgotten. You'd think she'd give me a bit of space every now and then. But no, she sticks like glue!'

‘I
asked
her to meet me at the station.' The old argument was wearing him out. If Gertie didn't drop it, he would be out of the door for good.

‘And she has to say yes, does she? Doesn't it occur to her to give me and you some time together?' Gertie pulled him out of sight into the narrow back kitchen. ‘She's young and shallow, Ronnie. She don't know what it's like for me, managing here by myself since your pa died.'

It wasn't like her to feel sorry for herself. Again he put it down to the strains of war. ‘You cope, don't you?' he said more gently, taking out a cigarette and lighting it.

‘I cope because I have to. And I set a lot of store by you, Ronnie. What will I do if she steals you away?'

‘Is that it?' He put an arm round her shoulder. ‘Is that what you've got against her?'

‘I said it before; she don't think of others.'

This was plainly untrue. ‘She does. Didn't she give you all the help she could? And she's always going on about her own family. And about you. She says she always wanted a ma like you, up to date and easy going.'

‘She never.' Gertie sniffed. The wind had been taken out of her sails.

‘She does. Meggie's ma worries a lot.'

‘Me too. Only I don't show it.' She put her shoulders back and lifted her head. ‘I worry about you, especially now.'

‘That's natural, ain't it? Families are made that way.'

‘I suppose so.' Gertie looked him in the eye. ‘You sure you ain't just fallen for a pretty face?'

‘What, would you like it better if I chose an ugly one?' He felt as if he might talk her round this time. It was just a matter of her learning to accept that he wouldn't be around forever. ‘Look, Ma, I know Meggie's young and me being away at sea ain't perfect neither. But in a way that gives us more time to think things through. And after we've weighed it up, we find we both still feel the same way.' Ronnie hid his awkwardness behind a cloud of cigarette smoke, trying to describe his strength of feeling, but falling a long way short.

Gertie gazed at her handsome son; dashing and clean-cut. ‘You know what they say, absence makes the heart grow fonder.' Perhaps it was the enforced separation that bound Meggie and him together.

‘I thought it was out of sight, out of mind.'

‘Yes, and you're too clever by half.' Gertie straightened her dress; a light, printed cotton one with a sweetheart neckline. She seemed to make a decision not to push him any harder over Meggie. ‘But it is good to have you back safe and sound.' She patted his cheek, then kissed it.

‘You ain't gone and got lipstick all over me?' He rubbed the patch of skin with his fingertips.

She laughed. ‘Will it make someone jealous?'

‘I wish you'd be friends with her, Ma.' He went and stood in the doorway, looking out into the bar. Meggie sat chatting with Eddie. Her face lit up when she spotted him. ‘What did she do to you? That's what I'd like to know.'

‘It ain't what she does. It's what she is.' Gertie's tone darkened again as she came to look over his shoulder.

He shook his head, about to give it up. ‘She's been through a lot, if you did but know.'

‘Meggie? She's had it easy if you ask me.'

‘No.' Ronnie knew that he was breaking a confidence, but he pressed on. ‘Honest. She ain't living with her real pa, you know.' His mother had taken a step backwards, begun to frown. ‘It's her step-pa that runs the taxi firm. She ain't never known her real one.' It was one of the things that had softened his heart; Meggie's confession that she'd first come up to Bernhardt Court in search of Richie Palmer.

Gertie's expression changed again. She refused to show any interest. ‘You call that going through a lot? I call it landing on your feet. She never goes short of nothing, does she?'

‘Her real pa ran off, though. That's hard.'

‘Yes, and your poor pa died queuing up for a football match, killed in the crush, never came home again—'

‘I know that!'

‘And stepfathers don't grow on trees round here, so we soldiered on, right?'

He nodded. Old wounds soon opened. ‘Neither do girls like Meggie,' he said.

There was an air raid that Saturday evening, but it was lighter than usual. Several German planes were brought down in dog-fights and many of the fire-bombs missed their mark. It seemed true what they said, that Hitler was turning his attentions elsewhere. After a couple of hours down the shelters, the all-clear sounded and people emerged.

‘Too late to open up again, thank God!' Annie looked at the big wall clock above the door in the bar. She sounded and looked tired
to death. ‘George, tell Hettie that it's safe to bring Edie upstairs. See if she needs any help.' The evening had left her drained; the scuffle with Morell, the discovery of poor Edie, the air raid.

Earlier they'd fetched the doctor.

‘Don't worry, she'll live,' he'd told Tommy as he brought Edie round. ‘No bones broken, some concussion, contusions, superficial cuts. Nothing that will cause any permanent damage.' He'd made her comfortable on her own bed, insisted that Hettie should stay to keep an eye on things. ‘Keep her quiet,' he'd advised. ‘And if you bring in the police, don't let them pester her until tomorrow at the earliest.'

Edie had overheard. ‘No police,' she'd implored Hettie.

‘We know who did it.' Tommy had escorted the doctor downstairs. ‘Her old man that was.'

‘It's like that, is it? Not so much
cherchez la femme
as give her a good hiding.' In his experience, it would be of little use to involve the police, then. The women never brought charges. He'd noted Tommy as the other man in the case. ‘Take care; this assailant knew precisely what he was doing. He used just enough force, not too much. I expect he wanted to teach her a lesson.'

‘It's the last time he'll lay a finger on her!' Tommy had vowed. ‘But not the first?' The doctor had stood in the shattered street, looking up at the blue sky. Violence came in many shapes and forms. He thought he heard the distant drone of aeroplanes, then the sirens had begun to wail. ‘Get her to a shelter as quick as you can.' He'd shaken hands and climbed into his car. Tonight would be no different from any other; why should it?

So Tommy and Hettie had called on Rob to bring his cab and take Edie on the short journey from her flat to the Duke, where they'd helped her straight down to the cellar, trying their best to ignore how she looked, but failing to hide their shock. Edie trembled from head to foot, her hands and arms were cut-and bruised, she had marks high on her cheekbones and across her brow. One eye was swollen and closed.

‘Where's Tommy?' she'd pleaded. ‘Make him stay here with me.'
They'd bolstered her with cushions and pillows, wrapped her in blankets.

Reluctantly he'd been brought down to the shelter. It was as if he couldn't trust himself to look at her. ‘Hettie will take care of you. And Annie and Sadie. They're all here now.'

But she'd flung her arms around his neck. ‘Don't go back up.' She was thinking of him and how he would ignore the sirens and scour the streets for Bill.

He'd held her tight, then unwound her arms. The others retreated to the far corners of the shelter to give them privacy. ‘Edie – darling!'

‘I don't care!' She'd held onto his hands. ‘Leave him be, Tommy. He's only got forty-eight hours, then he'll be gone. We'll be rid of him. Please!'

‘And then what?' He'd forced himself to talk it through, squashed down a burning anger that made him want to kill Morell. ‘Until next time? You don't think he'll ever leave us alone, do you?'

‘Not now, Tommy, I need you here.' She'd sobbed helplessly.

‘I can't, Edie. I have to go.' He'd stroked her hair, her bruised, wet face. ‘I have to find him.'

‘Take someone with you.' She'd turned and called out to Hettie. ‘Make George keep an eye on him!'

Hettie had gone and stooped over her. ‘He's on duty. So's Walter.'

‘They can keep a look out.'

Hettie had agreed. ‘They can try.' They were already risking their necks up there this very minute, but Edie was beside herself.

At last Tommy had unfastened himself from Edie's grasp, nodded at Hettie to take over, and run from the shelter. That was the last they saw of him. The women had sat and waited for the all-clear, wondering what part of town would be bombed this time, imagining the firestorms up above, praying that it wouldn't be them.