Gaslight in Page Street (69 page)

May flowers in the local church gardens and a warm sun shone down on the dingy Bermondsey backstreets as Florrie Axford stood with her arms folded at her front door. Lorries were now trundling along the turning where once there had been only horse-carts, and she could see Billy Sullivan sitting outside his house with his arms folded and his head resting against the brickwork. Those bloody fumes can’t be too good for his chest, she thought. Aggie was cleaning her step as usual, the third time this week, Florrie noted, and Maisie was coming in her direction carrying a laden shopping-bag. Must ask how Fred is, she reminded herself, and as she watched Aggie gathering up her cleaning rags made a mental note to ask her about Harold. He had been off sick with a bad back. She had to keep abreast of what was going on in the street and lately the gossip seemed to have dried up.

Florrie took a pinch of snuff and wiped her watering eyes on the corner of her pinafore. ‘’Ello, luv. ’Ow’s yer ole man’s shingles?’ she asked as Maisie put down her shopping and pressed her hand against her side.

‘’E’s got right grumpy bein’ stuck in the ’ouse all day long,’ Maisie told her. ‘Mind yer, Doctor Kelly said ’e can go back ter work next week, fank Gawd. We’ve ’ad no money comin’ in fer two weeks. I’ve ’ad ter take Fred’s suit over uncle’s. Still, ’e’s not likely ter need it yet awhile.’

Florrie continued her enquiries. ‘’Ave yer ’eard ’ow Aggie’s ole man is?’ she asked. ‘’E’s bin orf work this week.’

‘’E’s a bit better, so she told me,’ Maisie replied. ‘’Ere, by the way, did yer ’ear about ole Jack Oxford? ’E’s courtin’!’

‘Not Jack Oxford?!’

‘Well, I wouldn’t ’ave believed it eivver,’ Maisie said, pressing a hand to her side again. ‘Maudie told me. It’s ’is lan’lady ’e’s courtin’. ’Er ole man’s left ’er an’ Jack’s got ’is feet in front o’ the fire.’

‘’Ow did Maudie find out?’ Florrie asked.

‘She ’eard about it at the muvvers’ meetin’,’ Maisie replied. ‘Jack’s lady friend goes there. Apparently she’s goin’ in fer a divorce an’ then ’er an’ Jack’s gonna tie the knot.’

‘They won’t be able ter get married in a church, that’s fer sure,’ Florrie remarked quickly. ‘Still, it’s prob’ly just as well. Imagine ole Jack sittin’ in the pew waitin’ fer ’is bride ter come marchin’ down the aisle. ’E’d be snorin’ ’is ’ead orf, an’ then when the vicar ses that bit about do yer take this woman ter be yer lawful wedded wife, ’e’ll most prob’ly say, “If yer like”! I fink we’ll ’ave ter go ter that weddin’, Maisie, even if it is a register office. It’s about time me an’ you ’ad a good laugh.’

Maisie smiled. ‘Young Carrie’s weddin’ was a nice turn out, wasn’t it, Flo?’ she remarked. ‘Mind yer, ’e’s a bit older than ’er. Still, it’s ’er choice.’

Florrie nodded. ‘Funny ’ow quick it all ’appened,’ she said, a thoughtful look on her face. ‘P’raps she married ’im fer security. ’E must ’ave a few bob.’

‘Yer don’t fink they ’ad ter do it, do yer?’ Maisie asked in a whisper.

Florrie shook her head vigorously. ‘Not Carrie. She’s too sensible ter go an’ get ’erself inter trouble, though I s’pose it could ’appen. They say it’s always the nice gels what get pregnant.’

Maisie nodded in agreement. ‘Didn’t Nellie’s Charlie look ill?’ she said. ‘Mind yer, the weddin’ was so soon after ’is young lady got drowned. Charlie didn’t stop long after Carrie left. ’E ’ad ter go straight back ter the army camp, so Nellie told me. I tell yer what I did notice, Flo. ’E sat all on ’is own in the church. Normally families sit tergevver.’

‘P’raps they fell out over ’is young lady,’ Florrie suggested. ‘After all she was Galloway’s daughter. Nellie can’t stan’ that ole goat at no price, ’specially after ’im sackin’ Will the way ’e did.’

‘It’s such a terrible shame, none the less,’ Maisie remarked. ‘’E’s a nice boy is Charlie. ’E’s very quiet, not like poor James an’ the younger one, Danny. Nellie was tellin’ me ’er Danny’s the worst one o’ the lot. She reckons it’s since ’e got in wiv that there Billy Sullivan. Mad on boxin’ ’e is. Nellie said ’e’s done boxin’ since ’e’s bin in the army, an’ yet when ’e was a kid ’e was such a puny little sod.’

Florrie removed the snuff-box from her apron and tapped her fingers on the lid. ‘I noticed ’ow big ’e’d got when ’e was ’ome on leave that time,’ she said, taking a pinch. ‘Sadie told me it was the only time ’er Billy bucked up, when Danny Tanner was on leave.’

‘Yeah, they’re right mates them two,’ Maisie replied, looking over at the young man sitting outside his house. That’s anuvver poor sod the war’s ruined. Sadie said ’er Billy won’t go out an’ look fer a job. She said ’e jus’ sits mopin’ aroun’ the ’ouse all day long. It’s ’cos ’e can’t do that boxin’ anymore, that’s the reason why.’

Florrie wiped her eyes on her apron and looked up and down the street before leaning towards Maisie. ‘Did yer know Ida’s ole man’s back on the turps again?’ she whispered.

Maisie looked suitably shocked. ‘Gawd ’elp ’er. I remember last time. ’E didn’t ’alf give ’er a pastin’. Terrible black eye she ’ad.’

‘Ida was tellin’ me it was since ’e got that job at the tannery. Pissed nearly every night ’e is. ’E brought a goat ’ome the ovver night.’

‘A goat?’

‘’S’right. ’E won it in a pub raffle,’ Florrie went on. ‘I know it’s wicked but I ’ad ter laugh when she told me. She said ’er ole man come staggerin’ down the turnin’ wiv this bloody goat on a lump o’ rope. It was as pissed as ’e was. All the men ’ad bin givin’ it beer ter drink while it was tied up outside the pub. Anyway, when ’er ole man brought it ’ome she ’ad a right bull-an’-cow wiv ’im over where ’e was gonna keep it. It fell against the dresser an’ smashed all ’er best china, then it shit all over the yard. Ida was furious when she was tellin’ me. She said ’er ole man wanted it fer the milk, but it turned out ter be a billy-goat. She made ’im get rid of it. She said it was eivver that goat or ’er. ’Course yer know ’ow aggravatin’ ’e can be when ’e’s ’ad a drink. Know what ’e done?’

‘No.’

‘’E ’ad the cheek ter toss a coin up,’ Florrie continued. ‘’E told ’er she’d won so ’e’d get rid o’ the goat. ’E took it up the butcher’s shop.’

‘Well, if that ’ad bin me I’d ’ave opened the ’oreson,’ Maisie said angrily.

‘I s’pose Ida’s frightened of ’im. After all, ’e can get very nasty in drink,’ Florrie replied. ‘She’s ’ad ’er share o’ black eyes ter contend wiv.’

‘Well, I’d ’ave waited till the ole git went ter sleep, I’m afraid,’ Maisie persisted.

Across the street Ida Bromsgrove peered through her lace curtains. I wonder who those two are gossiping about? she thought. I wish I had time to stand at the street door gassing all day. She clicked her tongue and went out into the scullery to see how the currant dumplings were doing.

Chapter Forty-one

Frank Galloway stood in the office doorway and watched as his father walked slowly along Page Street, leaning heavily on his silver-topped walking stick. The June morning was bright with early sunlight as the hulking figure trudged towards the yard. Frank had noticed how downcast the old man had become during the past few months. His hair was completely grey now and his heavy shoulders sagged. Gone were the jaunty step and upright stance he had once had. He looked older than his sixty-one years although he had lost none of his scowling arrogance. Frank felt he had become even less approachable. He had seen how the carmen kept out of the old man’s way as much as possible, and Jim Baines the mechanic seemed to have adopted a surly attitude after a few clashes with the firm’s owner over the state of the vehicles. Jake Mitchell appeared to be the only employee who was not affected by his employer’s black moods and he went about his work with the usual indifference.

Despite feeling a little sorry for his father, Frank despised him for bringing so much upon himself. He had hounded Josephine out of the house with his obstinacy and hard-heartedness and now he was suffering under the terrible burden of guilt over her tragic accident. The inquest had given the verdict as accidental death due to drowning, but they both knew that Josephine was heart-broken when she left the house for the last time and must have been in a terrible state when she took that trip. It was so unlike his sister to drink more than one glass of port or sherry, but on that occasion she had been seen severely intoxicated. She would never have fallen overboard had she been sober. The shameful burden of guilt had aged his father and now he lived alone in that sombre house in Tyburn Square. An elderly woman had taken Nora’s place as housekeeper. She came each morning to clean and prepare his evening meal, and would leave as soon as the table was cleared. Frank knew that his father was missing Nora’s company, although he would not admit it. She had been much more than a good servant; she had brought a little sunshine into the house.

George Galloway walked into the yard and glared at the mechanic who was bent over the raised bonnet of the big Leyland lorry. ‘Is that gonna be fixed terday?’ he called out.

Jim Baines straightened up and turned to face him, a large spanner in his greasy hand. ‘It’s the cylinder gasket. It’ll be ready by ternight,’ he answered offhandedly.

George entered the office and slumped down at his desk. ‘That’s the second time this week we’ve ’ad a lorry off the road,’ he growled. ‘They’re a sight less reliable than the ’orses. It’s the bloody cylinder gasket now.’

Frank ignored his father’s ill temper and nodded towards the roll of papers on his desk. ‘I’ve got some new sites for you to look at,’ he said resignedly. ‘There’s one here that looks pretty good.’

George got up and leaned over his son’s shoulder. ‘Is this the Abbey Street site?’ he asked.

Frank nodded. ‘It’s a ninety-nine-year leasehold and it’s bigger than that riverside site we went for,’ he replied.

The mention of the riverside property brought Josephine sadly to mind and a change came over George’s florid face. He had been poring over the plans that evening when the policemen called. Frank had put in the bid for him but he had neglected his affairs for weeks and done nothing further. By the time he returned to the matter of the crucial corner property, the working men’s café had already been sold.

‘Right then, you make enquiries. I’ll leave it up ter you,’ George said with a resigned sigh as he slumped down into his leather chair.

Frank glanced quickly at his father before rolling up the plans. His attitude was very different from what it had been in the past, he thought. The old man seemed a pathetic shadow of his former self as he stared down at the papers on his desk. All his enthusiasm and drive had deserted him, and he seemed to have no sense of purpose any more. He had not even asked after Bella or Caroline lately, not that the apparent lack of concern for his family troubled Frank unduly. After his recent matrimonial differences with his wife he did not feel inclined even to mention her name. She had taken him for a complete fool. Nevertheless, the memory of the confrontation he had with her and Hubert brought a wicked smile to Frank’s lips.

It had been hard to contain himself and pretend he was still ignorant of what was going on after what he had witnessed from his bedroom window that night, but Frank had restrained himself until the following evening when Hubert called to take Bella to a charity ball. The young man had looked crestfallen when he saw that the Scotch was missing from its usual place on the sideboard and shuffled his feet uneasily as he faced the man he had made a cuckold.

‘I’m afraid there’s none there,’ he called out over his shoulder when Bella told him to help himself.

Frank smiled evilly. ‘You’ve been helping yourself to my wife for the past year. You can hardly expect me to keep you in Scotch as well, Hubert, now can you?’ he said without warning.

‘I say, now look here old boy,’ Hubert said quickly, his face reddening painfully.

‘I’m not your old boy, you spotty-looking little rat,’ Frank snarled, reaching forward and taking hold of the white scarf draped around Hubert’s narrow shoulders.

‘Bella!’ the young man shouted in panic as Frank glared at him vengefully.

She hurried from the bedroom, a large powder puff in her hand, and gasped: ‘Frank, what are you doing? Put Hubert down this minute! Do you hear me?’

Hubert’s face was turning blue as he tried to release Frank’s grip on his silk scarf. Frank hit him hard with the back of his hand and sent him sprawling across the room. Bella screamed loudly and jumped on to her irate husband’s back, pulling his hair.

‘You brutal pig!’ she raved. ‘Look what you’ve done to Hubert’s face!’

The young man staggered to his feet and dabbed at his bloody lips with the scarf. ‘He’s quite mad! He should be locked up,’ he moaned as he backed towards the door.

Frank had managed to dislodge Bella from his back. He gripped her by the shoulders and shook her violently. ‘You’re not going anywhere tonight, do you hear?’ he shouted at her. He turned to face Hubert. ‘Get out of here,’ he snarled, ‘before I change that face permanently!’

Frank realised that he was clenching his fists and snarling to himself as he recalled the confrontation, and sagged back in his chair. His face relaxed and he smiled to himself. He had forced himself on Bella that night and had been surprised at her lack of resistance. In fact, she had seemed to become rather responsive after an initial show of temper. At least she would know better than to bring any other young gad-about-town back to the flat in future. As for waiting on her hand and foot, well, that was a thing of the past.

When Hubert beat a hasty retreat and Bella collapsed sobbing loudly on to the divan, only to be dragged unceremoniously to her feet and thrown into the bedroom, Frank did not know that the demure young nurse from the agency had been listening at the door of Caroline’s room. As the house became quiet again the nurse smiled to herself and tiptoed over to the crib. Maybe she had been a little premature in her assessment of the man, she thought. He had certainly ended that little affair, and the mistress of the house appeared to be in for a hard time this evening. Masterful men were so exciting, she thought to herself, taking off her glasses and touching her hot cheek.