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Authors: Harry Bowling

Gaslight in Page Street (34 page)

BOOK: Gaslight in Page Street
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More couples were dancing now as the pianist and the string quartet played a medley of popular dance tunes. Nora noticed that Geoffrey was dancing with his lady friend. Their bodies were close together and they were staring into each other’s eyes. Bella looked as though she was having a serious conversation with one smart young man, while Frank was surrounded with a group of dandies at the far end of the room. While George wandered off somewhere Nora sat down on a soft window seat and sipped her port. She became aware of a young woman eyeing her up and down. Nora smiled briefly at her, but the woman looked away quickly. It was not long before George returned, strolling over to the window with an elderly man and woman. He was holding a full glass of Scotch and his face was flushed.

 

‘Nora, this is Bella’s muvver an’ farvver,’ he said in a slightly exaggerated voice.

 

Nora got up and shook hands with them and the woman took her arm and steered her to one side. The man took a sip from his drink and turned to George. ‘Young Frank tells me you’re in the cartage business,’ he said with a pompous jerk of his head.

 

George took a swig from his glass and pulled a face as he swallowed a mouthful of whisky. ‘That’s right. What d’you do fer a livin’?’ he asked, swaying slightly.

 

‘I’m in banking,’ Bella’s father said. ‘What exactly do you cart around?’ he added quickly.

 

‘Rum, skins, ’ops an’ foodstuffs mainly,’ he replied.

 

‘Skins? Animal skins?’

 

‘’S’right. It’s not the best sort o’ contract,’ George told him. ‘The trouble wiv ’andlin’ skins is the smell. Stink ter ’igh ’eaven they do, but the contract pays well.’

 

‘Frank tells me that you’ve been thinking about buying some vehicles,’ the banker said, raising an eyebrow.

 

‘The boy’s bin tryin’ ter push me inter gettin’ motors but I’m keepin’ the nags,’ George told him with resolve.

 

‘Really? I would have thought there were good arguments for cartage firms to mechanise,’ Bella’s father commented. ‘I understand there’s a lot of freight up for the taking, the way the food firms are expanding. Then there’s the dock freight as well.’

 

George swayed back on his heels and fixed the tall, thin banker with his bleary eyes. ‘I’ve bin lookin’ inter this business o’ mechanisation,’ he began. ‘Yer pay out a tidy sum fer a lorry, then yer gotta pump it full o’ petrol, an’ that’s not all. Yer put water in it, an’ oil fer the engine. Then ter start it yer gotta crank the bloody fing, an’ if yer ain’t got yer magneto set prop’ly yer quite likely ter rupture yer bloody self. I’ve seen drivers tryin’ ter start those motors on frosty mornin’s. It’s bloody nigh impossible.’

 

The banker raised his hand as he tried to get a word in. ‘The latest vehicles are much improved, George,’ he said quickly.

 

Galloway laughed derisively. ‘Let me tell yer somefink. My carmen collect their ’orses from the stable first fing in the mornin’, an’ once they’ve got ’em in the sharves they’re off. While the carman loads an’ unloads the van the ’orse ’as the nose bag on, an’ when the carman sees a water-trough on ’is route ’e lets the ’orse drink its fill. It’s as simple as that. Yer can turn an ’orse-an’-cart round in any backstreet. Try doin’ that wiv a lorry. I’ll ter yer somefing else an’ all. When it turns nasty an’ the fog comes down like a blanket yer gotta leave the lorry where it stands. Yer don’t ’ave ter wiv ’orses. Yer get yer wheels in the tramlines an’ let the ’orse ’ave its ’ead. They can smell their own stable a mile off. Motors are unreliable. ’Orses’ll work till they drop. So yer see, pal, I’m not in any ’urry ter mechanise.’

 

Bella’s father had the sudden urge to mingle and George glanced over to Nora, but saw that she was in earnest conversation with Bella’s mother. He walked unsteadily into the adjoining room and went up to the improvised bar counter. While his glass was being refilled, he looked around at the other wedding guests. A shapely woman in a fur stole was sitting near the window. When she caught his eye, she got up and came over to him.

 

‘You’re Mr Galloway, aren’t you?’ she said, smiling at him. ‘I’m a friend of a friend of Bella’s, and frankly I don’t know what I’m doing here.’

 

‘Well, I’m enjoyin’ a good drink. I s’pose that’s a good enough reason as any fer bein’ ’ere,’ he said, grinning lopsidedly.

 

The woman put down her empty glass and looked him over. ‘I saw you talking to Bella’s father a minute ago,’ she remarked. ‘I think he’s a pompous old bastard, if you’ll excuse the expression.’

 

George laughed loudly. ‘Yer can say that again! The silly ole sod was on about me gettin’ rid o’ me ’orse-an’-carts an’ goin’ in fer motors. I told ’im, though.’

 

‘Good for you,’ the woman declared. ‘By the way, my name’s Rose. Rose Martin. What’s your first name?’

 

‘George,’ he replied. ‘Are yer on yer own, Rose?’

 

She shook her head. ‘I was with a young man when I came in, but I think he’s found himself a young lady.’

 

‘Well, ’e ought ter be ashamed of ’imself,’ George said with gusto.

 

‘Oh, it’s quite all right,’ she laughed. ‘To be honest Desmond’s a bit of a silly billy. Actually, I prefer the company of older men.’

 

George was intrigued by her candour and studied her while she sipped a fresh drink. She looked to be in her mid-forties, he thought, very attractive and well preserved. Her smile showed off her perfect teeth and her grey eyes seemed to sparkle mockingly. Her hair was fair and cut close to her neck, and she was wearing expensive clothes. Her fur must be worth a pretty penny, he told himself, letting his eyes wander down her body. She was full-bosomed with wide hips, and he noted that she carried herself well.

 

‘Are yer on the stage?’ he asked her.

 

Rose raised her hands in front of her. ‘Good God, no! I’m a lady of leisure. I let wealthy men keep me in luxury,’ she explained, seemingly amused as he raised his eyebrows.

 

‘Do any of your men friends take yer out fer a ride in a pony an’ trap?’ Galloway asked her, smiling slyly.

 

‘No, I’ve never had that pleasure,’ she lied.

 

‘Would yer like ter try it?’ he asked her.

 

‘It sounds exciting. Are you offering?’

 

He nodded. ‘Why not?’

 

Rose adjusted her fur stole as she glanced over his shoulder. ‘It seems that dear Desmond is looking for me,’ she said with a grimace. ‘Come and visit me soon, during the afternoon. I’ve got rooms in Acre Lane. It’s the big house next to the church. Two knocks. Can you remember that?’

 

George nodded and turned away as Desmond came up. He had left Nora to her own devices and thought it was time he rejoined her. The band was playing a slow foxtrot as George went back into the other room and he saw Geoffrey dancing with the same woman who had been monopolising him earlier. They seemed to be absorbed in each other, he thought, and looked as though they knew each other well. George had never seen her before today and frowned as he watched their progress around the dance floor. Geoffrey was a deep young man, and it seemed to George that he had strange tastes in women. He was a good-looking lad and well educated. He could take his pick of desirable young women, and there were certainly some of those in Bermondsey, but the few he had brought home in the past were either quiet and withdrawn or else ‘those campaigning women’, as George called them. Geoffrey’s present partner did not look the quiet and reserved sort, though, he thought. She was attractive and carried herself well, and looked at least as old as the boy if not a few years older.

 

George’s thoughts were interrupted by Nora who came up to him looking a little peevish. ‘Who was that brassy woman you was talkin’ to at the bar?’ she asked. ‘She looked as though she was all over yer.’

 

George grinned. ‘She’s wiv a young lad-about-town, an’ jus’ asked me if I was Frank’s farvver.’

 

Nora gave him a cold stare. ‘She looked no better than she should be, if you ask me. If she’d stood any closer ter yer she’d ’ave bin in yer pocket,’ she complained.

 

George shrugged his shoulders. ‘Who’s that woman our Geoff’s dancin’ wiv, Nora?’ he asked, nodding in the direction of the dance floor. ‘They seem very good friends.’

 

She shook her head. ‘Jus’ somebody ’e’s met, I s’pose,’ she answered. She had been observing the couple for some time, however, and had come to the conclusion that they were more than just friends. Nora felt suddenly sorry for Geoffrey. He had become very secretive lately and there would be trouble ahead for him if, as she guessed, he and this woman were lovers.

 

The evening wore on and George seemed to be achieving his aim of getting drunk. He had started to reel about and become more noisy. Nora found him a seat and then she went to speak to Geoffrey. ‘Yer farvver’s not gonna be able ter drive that trap back,’ she told him. ‘’E’s ’ad too much whisky. I couldn’t stop ’im. Yer know what ’e’s like.’

 

Geoffrey squeezed her arm reassuringly. ‘Don’t worry, Nora. I’ll drive it back. By the way, I’d like you to meet Mary O’Reilly. Mary and I are friends.’

 

The young woman reached out her hand. ‘So you’re Nora. Geoff’s told me all about yer,’ she said, smiling.

 

Nora smiled back and looked discerningly at her. Her hair was raven, enhancing the deep blue of her eyes. Her manner was easy and friendly, although there seemed to be a defensiveness about her. It was understandable, Nora conceded. If she was married and she and Geoffrey were having an affair, it would be natural for her to be on her guard. Geoffrey did not seem at all bothered however and slipped his arm around Mary’s waist as they stood talking to Nora.

 

‘Are yer enjoyin’ yerself, Nora?’ Mary asked.

 

‘Ter tell yer the trufe, I feel a bit uneasy in this company,’ Nora replied. ‘I’m not used ter bein’ around so many people.’

 

Geoffrey laughed. ‘Don’t tell me that, Nora. I saw you drinking port and chatting away merrily. I’ll tell you what, could you keep Mary company for me while I go and see if Father’s all right?’

 

Mary took hold of Geoffrey’s arm. ‘Before yer go, can yer get us anuvver drink? Nora needs one too by the look of it,’ she said, smiling sweetly at him.

 

When the drinks arrived the two women sat on the soft, velvet-covered window seat and Nora sipped her port, studying the dancers. ‘Are you an’ Geoff walkin’ out tergevver?’ she asked suddenly.

 

Mary smiled and looked down at the drink she held in her hand. ‘’As Geoff spoken ter yer about me?’ she asked.

 

Nora shook her head. ‘No. As a matter o’ fact ’e’s bin very secretive lately. One time ’e used ter confide in me, but I s’pose it’s ter be understood. ’E’s a man now an’ ’e needs ’is privacy.’

 

‘Geoff’s very fond of yer,’ Mary said, taking a sip from her glass. ‘’E’s told me ’ow yer looked after them all when ’is muvver died. Don’t be too upset about ’im not sayin’ much lately. Things are a bit difficult fer both of us. I’m married, an’ that makes seein’ Geoff a bit awkward.’

 

Nora looked at Mary with feigned surprise. ‘Oh dear,’ she said.

 

Mary studied her drink. ‘My ’usband’s not one o’ those men who knocks ’is wife about or who comes ’ome drunk,’ she began. ‘In fact, ’e’s a very nice man. It’s just that we’ve grown apart the last couple o’ years. Maybe if we’d ’ave ’ad kids it would ’ave bin different, but it wasn’t ter be. I’m in love wiv Geoff an’ I fink ’e loves me. I couldn’t ’elp fallin’ fer ’im. It jus’ ’appened.’

 

‘Does yer ’usband know about Geoff?’ Nora asked quickly.

 

Mary shook her head. ‘’E doesn’t know about us an’ I can’t bring meself ter tell ’im. Not that I ’aven’t tried. I’ve tried dozens o’ times but I jus’ can’t. Maybe I’m wrong, but it’s jus’ that I can’t ’urt ’im. As I said, ’e’s a good man an’ a good provider. Christ! It’s so difficult.’

 

Nora lifted her eyes from her drink. ‘It must be difficult fer Geoff as well,’ she said with feeling. ‘’Is farvver expects a lot from ’im an’ I don’t know ’ow ’e’ll take it when ’e finds out. ’E’s gotta find out some time.’

 

Mary winced. ‘I realise that. I only ’ope ’is farvver doesn’t disown ’im when ’e does find out. Geoff works ’ard at the business, from what I can make out. It wouldn’t be fair.’

 

‘What is fair?’ Nora asked. ‘Geoff lost ’is muvver when ’e was at a young age. ’E grew up in a sad ’ouse. Most o’ the time ’is farvver was eivver at the yard or sittin’ in ’is room wiv a bottle fer company. The boy couldn’t ’ave bin blamed if ’e’d ’ave kicked over the traces an’ gone off ter sea or somefink. ’E never did though. Mind yer, ’e never ever wanted ter go in the business. ’E only agreed fer ’is farvver’s sake. Geoff’s a good boy. ’E’s got more feelin’ than Frank an’ I wouldn’t like ter see the boy unhappy.’

 

Mary was about to say something but Geoff was coming over to them. ‘I’m afraid Father’s beginning to make a nuisance of himself,’ he said raising his eyes to the ceiling. ‘He’s been telling the women all about horse fever. If that wasn’t bad enough, he then started on about animal skins and the danger of anthrax. Frank’s new mother-in-law looked like she was going to faint. Anyway, I managed to steer the old man away from them. I left him sitting in a corner with a large whisky. I think I’d better get the trap before he really gets into his stride.’

 

The night was cold and a bright moon shone down from a starry sky as the party returned to Bermondsey. Iron wheels rattled over the gaslit cobbled streets and Geoffrey held the reins taut as the gelding trotted at a fast pace with its head held high. It had been stabled at an ostler’s during the wedding reception and was feeling fresh and frisky. George was slumped in the side seat with his head lying on Nora’s shoulder and Mary sat beside Geoffrey, holding tightly on to his arm. Josephine was not with them. She had been invited to stay overnight at Bella’s parents’, along with the other bridesmaids.

BOOK: Gaslight in Page Street
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