Gaslight in Page Street (51 page)

She sighed and dabbed at her eyes. ‘Why didn’t they take any notice o’ their muvver? They know ’ow I worry over ’em.’

‘Don’t yer fink I’m worried too?’ Daniel said irritably. ‘We’ll jus’ ’ave ter grin an’ bear it like all the ovvers do. The boys’ll be all right. Anyway, the war might be over soon. I reckon when the Germans find out the Sullivans are on their way, they’ll sue fer peace instantly.’

Sadie did not realise that her husband was joking and continued to stare dejectedly down at the white linen tablecloth.

‘D’yer fink they’ll let the three of ’em stay tergevver?’ she asked tearfully.

‘I bet they will,’ he answered. ‘The Queens is a local regiment. There’s lots o’ bruvvers in the Queens.’

Sadie suddenly sat up straight in her chair and glared at her husband. ‘I tell yer somefink, Dan. The twins are eighteen this year, an’ if they try ter sign on I’ll go down that bloody recruitin’ office an’ tear the list up meself, an’ I don’t care if I do get nicked! Four kids in the army out o’ one family is more than enough fer anybody.’

‘Don’t worry, gel. If the twins try ter sign on, I’ll come down there wiv yer an’ burn the bloody place down.’

Less than a mile away in the gymnasium of the Dockhead Boys’ Club a discussion was taking place between the Sullivan boys that would have horrified their already distressed parents.

‘Muvver’s bound ter be upset but she’ll soon get over it,’ John remarked.

‘I can’t wait ter go,’ Michael said, rubbing his hands together. ‘We’re bound ter see Billy out there.’

‘D’yer reckon it’ll be over before we get there?’ Joe asked anxiously.

‘Nah, the war’s gonna go on fer years yet. Well, a couple at any rate,’ John told him. ‘Fing is, we’ve gotta stick tergevver. If they try ter split us up, we’ll jus’ tell ’em no.’

‘Yer can’t do that in the army, stupid,’ Michael said. ‘Yer can get court-martialled and drummed out, or if it’s really bad they can shoot yer.’

‘Shoot yer?’ gasped Shaun, the youngest. ‘Well, I ain’t goin’ in if that’s the case.’

‘Shut yer trap. Anyway, the war’ll be over by the time yer eighteen,’ Joe cut in.

The twins, Patrick and Terry, were reclining on a tumbling mat and listening with interest. ‘D’yer fink we’ll be in time?’ Terry asked his brother.

‘’Course we will,’ Patrick replied. ‘Matter o’ fact, we could volunteer termorrer. We could tell ’em we’re eighteen, an’ by the time they find out we’ll be in France. Anyway, it’s only four months ter go fer our birthdays.’

Shaun slipped down from his perch on the vaulting-horse and faced his brothers. ‘If you lot fink I’m gonna let yer all go wivout me, yer got anuvver fink comin’. I’d ’ave ter stop ’ome an’ watch Muvver cryin’ over all of yerse, an’ when yer win all yer medals an’ yer show ’em ter people, they’ll say: “’Ave you got any medals, Shaun?” an’ I’ll ’ave ter say, “No, me muvver wouldn’t let me go.” Well, I tell yer straight, I ain’t stoppin’ ’ere. No bloody fear. I’m gonna sign on wiv yer. I look eighteen anyway. I do look eighteen, don’t I, John?’

‘Nah. I’d say yer look about fifteen,’ he said, winking at Michael.

Shaun rushed at his elder brother with his fists flailing and his mouth screwed up in temper. Michael grabbed him around the body and the twins jumped up. ‘Leave ’im alone,’ they shouted, trying to pull Shaun free.

John attempted to calm his younger brothers, and as he stepped in Joe turned on him. ‘You started it,’ he yelled.

Soon the Sullivan boys were a struggling, fighting ball of arms, legs and heads. Michael came out of the mass with his nose dripping blood. As soon as he put his hand up and realised his injury he dived back in, his arms swinging like a windmill. Their bodies locked in fierce combat, they fell against the vaulting-horse, sending it crashing to the floor. Harold Roberts the club leader rushed over and tried to break up the fight but was sent reeling by someone’s fist. It was only when a boxing coach strode across and roughly yanked them apart that the fight was stopped. The boys looked a sorry sight as they were lined up to be read the riot act. Harold Roberts dabbed at his lip as he faced them.

‘It was a black day fer this club when you lot joined,’ he growled at them. ‘Jus’ look at yerselves. Yer bruvver Billy wouldn’t be very proud of yer if ’e could see yer now. In fact, I fink ’e’d be downright disgusted. I’m sorry, there’s nuffink I can do but expel the lot o’ yerse. Yer know the rules. Any, fightin’ in this club is done in the ring, not outside of it. That’s the way it is.’

John Sullivan lowered his head in shame then stepped forward to plead their case. ‘I’m sorry, Mr Roberts,’ he said in a low voice. ‘It was my fault. I started it. If yer gonna expel anybody, it should be me, not this lot.’

‘You Sullivans are all the same,’ the club leader shouted. ‘What was it over?’

‘Well, yer see, we’re goin’ in the army, me, Michael an’ Joe,’ the eldest brother replied. ‘We didn’t want Shaun ter go an’ we was jossin’ ’im.’

‘But Shaun’s only sixteen.’

‘Yeah, but ’e’s gonna put ’is age up,’ John told him.

‘An’ what about the twins?’

‘They’re signin’ on as well.’

‘Oh my good Gawd!’ the club leader exclaimed. ‘Seven Sullivan bruvvers in one army. Yer commandin’ officer’s gonna end up shootin’ ’imself ! What about yer parents? What did they say when yer told ’em?’

‘They don’t know about it yet,’ Shaun butted in.

‘They do about us,’ John said, pointing to himself, Michael and Joe.

Harold Roberts looked at the boxing coach and raised his eyes heavenwards. ‘Well, I’m prepared ter waive the rules this once,’ he sighed, shaking his head, ‘seein’ as yer all gonna be soldiers. Any more fightin’ though an’ yer out, is that understood?’

The boys all nodded in silence and a smile began to play around the club leader’s lips. ‘All I can say is, Gawd ’elp the Germans when you lot get ter the front,’ he added. ‘Now off ’ome wiv yer, before I change me mind.’

Chapter Thirty

Charlie Tanner leant against the cold iron guard-rail and gazed at Josephine as she stared sadly across the river in full spate. How like Carrie she was in looks, he thought. She had a similar pert nose and shapely lips and her fair hair shone the way Carrie’s did. Josephine was shorter and slighter, although her figure was still curvy and womanly. Her eyes were different though. Carrie’s were pale blue and wide-set, but Josephine’s eyes were an intense blue, almost violet, and oval in shape. Charles studied her round forehead and saw how long her eyelashes were. She was a striking young woman.

There was a deepness to her which he could not fathom, and it had been a new experience being with her during the past few days. They had been wonderful days he would never forget. They had taken long walks in the warm sunshine, down as far as Greenwich and the park. They had climbed the hill and then rested beneath the shade of an old chestnut tree, looking down over the twisting silver band of river and watching the sun dip towards the west, changing the azure sky to fiery hues of red and gold. He had felt relaxed in Josephine’s company, listening rapt as she told him about her work and watching that delightful twitch of her nose when she smiled. She was doing it now, he noticed as she smiled briefly at him and then stared back over the river.

It had been a restful week but it was over so soon. The days had flown by so quickly and tomorrow he would be returning to his regiment. He remembered kissing her clumsily that first night when they returned from the music hall, almost missing her lips in his hurry, and she had shyly kissed him on the cheek before walking quickly into the square. He had been taken by her beauty from that first evening when he met her outside the church hall. She had been nervous as she stepped out beside him, he recalled, keeping her distance and laughing too quickly at his jokes. It had all been so innocent and easygoing, but now there was a deep longing for her inside him and he sensed she felt it too.

Josephine was training during the evenings for her nursing certificate. Every night he met her at the church hall when she finished and escorted her home, saying goodbye to her in the quiet church gardens near her square. He held her gently, kissing her warm lips and letting her rest her head against his chest. It was her first experience of being alone with a young man and she had not been ashamed to tell him. He was very inexperienced, too, although he tried to hide it from her. But Josephine would have seen through it by now, he thought. She had laughed at his nervousness and fixed him with those beautiful, mocking eyes, as though daring him, willing him, to grow bold and impetuous. Now, as he watched her staring out over the river, strands of her tied-back hair loosening and blowing in the slight breeze, he became frightened. The war was drawing him away again and he would have to leave her.

Josephine turned to face him, framed by the distant towers and walkway of Tower Bridge. ‘It’s getting late,’ she said softly.

He nodded and sighed deeply as he turned to look downstream. ‘It’s bin a wonderful week,’ he replied. ‘I was jus’ finkin’ ’ow quick it’s gone.’

‘You will be careful, Charlie,’ she urged him. ‘I want you to come back soon.’

‘Will yer write ter me?’ he asked her.

‘Every day, as soon as you let me know where you are,’ she replied, smiling.

He moved away from the rail and realised that the riverside path was deserted. She had noticed it too and suddenly she was in his arms, her lips pressing against his, arms about his neck as her fingers moved through his short cropped hair. His arms were wrapped around her slim waist and shoulders and he squeezed her, feeling her warmth as she cuddled up against him. ‘I fink I’m fallin’ in love wiv yer, Josie,’ he said in a voice he hardly recognised.

‘I already have with you,’ she replied in a breathless whisper.

They walked slowly back to Tyburn Square through the quiet summer evening, hardly speaking, dwelling on their imminent parting and trying hard not to think about the dangers ahead. They walked close together, and as Josephine held his arm tightly Charlie treasured the feeling of her beautiful slim body close to his.

They reached the square and stood for a few moments, holding each other close and dreading the moment when they would say goodbye. Suddenly Josephine stiffened and broke away from his embrace. They both heard it, the sound of trotting hooves on the hard cobbles, and quickly hid themselves beneath the overhanging branches of a large tree. The trap came into view and they saw George Galloway slumped down in the side seat, holding on to the reins as the gelding steered the conveyance into the square. He had not seen them but Josephine seemed uneasy.

‘I’d better go now,’ she said quickly.

They kissed briefly and she looked into his sad eyes. ‘Come back soon, Charlie,’ she told him. ‘I’ll pray for you every night.’

He smiled and watched her back away from him, waiting until she had reached her house and hurried up the steps. He saw her wave to him and then she was gone.

Charlie walked home slowly, his mind full of the young woman with whom he had shared his wonderful week. They had been discreet and secretive about the time they were spending together which seemed to make it more romantic. He had not told his family about Josephine and she had kept their meetings secret too. He had agreed with her that it might be better that way, at least for the time being. Their families were linked through the business and it was possible that there could be problems. Josephine had told him that her father could be difficult at times and she did not feel close enough to him to speak openly about herself and her friends. Charlie shared her fears. He too found it difficult to feel that his family completely understood him, although their home was a happy one. They would all have to know in time, he realised, but until the war ended and he was home for good, the romance would remain a secret.

The early summer of 1916 saw the exodus of thousands of young men from Bermondsey, bound for the battlefields of France. Every day Red Cross trains brought more casualties from the seaports and fresh recruits took their place in France to join the forces massing for the Somme offensive. German Zeppelins flew over London and the newspapers carried stories of civilians being killed and injured. In early June Lord Kitchener, the man who stared down from countless war posters, was drowned when his ship struck a mine off the Orkneys. The war was becoming real for those at home now, and as more young men left for the front, more families waited and worried.

The three elder Sullivan boys had enlisted and Sadie sought comfort from her good friends in Page Street. ‘I still can’t believe it,’ she said tearfully. ‘Four of ’em in uniform, an’ now the twins are talkin’ about goin’. Gawd ’elp us, what am I gonna do?’

‘There’s nuffink yer can do, Sadie,’ Florrie told her. ‘They’re all grown-up now. Yer can’t keep wipin’ their noses an’ molly-coddlin’ ’em. All yer can do is pray.’

Maisie nodded. ‘My two wouldn’t listen ter me or their farvver. They couldn’t wait ter go. It’s upset my Fred. ’E don’t say much but ’e idolises them boys. ’E was only sayin’ last night, if ’e was younger ’
e
’
d
go. I didn’t ’alf coat ’im. “Ain’t I got enough worry wivout you goin’ on about joinin’ up?” I said to ’im. It’s enough ter put yer in an’ early grave.’

Nellie passed round the tea. ‘When I see my two walkin’ off up the turnin’, I could ’ave bawled me eyes out,’ she told her friends. ‘It’s funny, but I don’t worry so much about James. ’E’s always seemed ter be the strong one. It’s young Charlie I worry over. ’E’s so quiet. D’yer know, that week they were ’ome on leave Jimmy got drunk every night. ’E come in lookin’ like ’e was gonna fall inter the fireplace, but young Charlie ’ardly touched a drop. ’E was out wiv a young lady friend, by all accounts.’