On Mother Brown's Doorstep (26 page)

‘Right, Ronnie, got your bike at the ready still, have you?’

‘At your service, Mister Sammy, sir,’ said Ronnie, slim, lanky and pleasant-looking. Sammy approved the fact that he didn’t sport a quiff or put brilliantine on his hair.

‘Good. Saddle up, then, me lad, and kindly deliver this box to Miss Brown. I’ve scribbled her address on the lid. Mind you hand it in with my compliments, and don’t damage the contents or you and your bike will be hanged upside-down, which will hurt considerable.’

‘Mister Sammy, I can frankly tell yer I don’t like bein’ hurt considerable.’

‘Highly sensible,’ said Sammy. ‘Kindly get movin’, and when you’ve made the delivery you can go home, which you’ll be entitled to if it takes you up twelve-thirty. Here’s a tanner for doin’ this special delivery.’

‘Well, thanks, sir,’ said Ronnie, ‘and I’d like to say I’m pleasured to be included with the staff at your weddin’, seein’ I’ve only been workin’ here for two months.’

‘Can’t leave any of you out,’ said Sammy, ‘or there’d be ructions. Off you go.’

Ronnie had contributed to the staff collection for a wedding present, and the money had been used to buy Susie and Sammy a chiming clock.

Off went the whistling office boy to Caulfield Place, Walworth, the box strapped securely to the carrier. A knock on the door of the Browns’ house was answered by Sally. She blinked at the caller.

‘Hello,’ he said, the cardboard box balanced on his hands.

‘Hello yerself,’ said Sally, looking pretty nice in a Saturday frock.

Ronnie, who hadn’t worked in the offices for two months without taking educational note of the verbal attributes of Boots and Sammy, said, ‘Am I addressin’ a lady member of the Brown fam’ly?’

‘You ’ave that honour,’ said Sally, deciding he was putting it on.

‘Might I ’ave the further honour of speakin’ with Miss Susie Brown?’ asked Ronnie, deciding he wasn’t in any hurry.

‘Alas,’ said Sally, who’d never yet played second fiddle to a boy’s chat.

‘What?’ said Ronnie.

‘Alas.’

‘Alas what?’

‘Miss Susie Brown, my sister, don’t ’appen to be in,’ said Sally, ‘she’s gone shoppin’ from ’er work.’

‘Oh, well,’ said Ronnie, ‘p’raps I might have another further honour.’

‘You’re comin’ it a bit with all these honours, ain’t you?’ said Sally.

‘Could I enquire your name?’

‘What for?’

‘I think I like you,’ said Ronnie.

‘That’s nothing,’ said Sally, ‘ev’ryone likes me, even me brother Freddy. What’s that box you’re ’olding?’

‘Special deliv’ry to Miss Susie Brown, with the compliments of Mister Sammy Adams. I’m ’is assistant.’

‘No, you’re not,’ said Sally, ‘that’s Susie.’

‘Yes, I’m his junior assistant,’ said Ronnie. ‘Shall I come in and wait? I don’t mind havin’ a chat with you in your parlour.’

‘I’m thrilled,’ said Sally, ‘but alas.’

‘Alas what?’ asked Ronnie, grinning.

‘Alas, I’m just goin’ to have poached eggs on Welsh
Rabbit
with me fam’ly,’ said Sally. ‘You honestly on the firm’s staff?’

‘I have that honour,’ said Ronnie.

‘You’re not comin’ to the weddin’, are you, with all the staff?’

‘I have that further honour,’ said Ronnie.

‘You’re a sad case, you are,’ said Sally, ‘you talk like someone’s butler.’

‘Funny thing, I was once—’

‘Well, never mind, you’re a junior assistant now,’ said Sally. ‘You can give the box to me.’

‘Pleasure. I’m Ronnie Jarvis, by the way. Who did you say you were?’

‘I didn’t. Well, all right, I’m Sally Brown.’

‘Pleased to meet yer, Sally. D’you go out with fellers?’

‘No, course I don’t, I’m still only fourteen.’

‘I used to be fourteen,’ said Ronnie. ‘You soon grow out of it. Here.’ He placed the box in her arms. ‘I might come and sit in your parlour with you sometimes, and bring my mouth organ.’

‘’Elp, I can ’ardly wait,’ said Sally.

‘Me neither,’ said Ronnie, and rode off whistling. Sally giggled and took the box to her mum, who lifted the lid and saw it was full of daffodils. She was so overcome by Sammy’s flowery gift to Susie that she hardly heard anything of what Sally said about the boy who’d brought them. So Sally had to say most of it twice.

Coming to, Mrs Brown said, ‘Oh, was he a nice boy, then?’

‘Well, ’e was honoured at just standin’ on our doorstep,’ said Sally.

‘Why, is our doorstep special, then?’ asked Freddy.

‘No, but he probably thinks Sally is,’ said Will.

‘Our Sally’s only fourteen, she’s only just left school,’ said Mrs Brown.

‘Oh, you soon grow out of only bein’ fourteen,’ said Sally.

ON SUNDAY AFTERNOON
, Annie and Will took to the winding paths of Ruskin Park along with other people, of whom there were plenty. The weather had warmed up. A fine Sunday always brought the cockneys of Camberwell and Walworth to the park, as well as better-off people from the neighbourhood of Denmark Hill. Annie had been able to put on her second best Sunday dress and to wear it without a coat. Will said it was nearly as highly fashionable as her white one. Annie said she was keeping that for his sister’s wedding, that she’d be able to get to St John’s Institute by a quarter to five. Was there really going to be dancing in the evening? Yes, to a three-piece band, said Will, and ‘Knees Up, Mother Brown’ would be performed.

‘Crikey,’ said Annie, ‘will the vicar be there?’

‘Yes, just for the knees-up,’ said Will, sauntering beside her.

‘I bet,’ said Annie. ‘Anyway, I’m not goin’ to do any knees-up in me highly fashionable dress, not with you lookin’.’

‘And the vicar,’ said Will.

Annie bubbled with laughter. The exciting little undercurrents of being in love exhilarated her, but she kept her head, she didn’t make the mistake of falling all over him in a manner of speaking. Of course, if he fell all over her – in a manner of speaking – she wouldn’t mind that. She asked if he’d thought any more about leaving the Army. Will, who felt the Army’s medical experts would make the decision for him, one way or another, said yes, he’d
thought
more about it, and that he’d make up his mind before his leave was up. Annie said she supposed it was sensible for him to take his time. It didn’t occur to her to ask him how long he’d signed up for simply because she didn’t know enough about the conditions imposed on a man when he entered the Army. Will said as soon as he’d made the decision she’d be the first to know outside his family.

‘Me?’ said Annie.

‘Well, you’re—’ Will checked. Better not to say because she was his young lady. If he was going to suffer asthma all his life, he didn’t think he could ask a girl to suffer it with him. Suppose, for instance, it took hold of him every time he made love to her? That wouldn’t make any wife rapturous, she’d think she’d married a wheezing old man. Mind, he’d only had one attack these last few days, and that was when he woke up on the morning after taking her to see Tom Mix. So he’d attended Dr McManus’s morning surgery. Dr McManus wanted to know exactly what had preceded the attack. Will said eight hours good kip. Dr McManus asked if he had feather pillows. Will said the Army doctors in London had mentioned feather pillows, but there’d been none in India, and in any case, this was the first time he’d had an attack while still in bed. Dr McManus wanted to know what was the last food he’d eaten the night before. Will said fried fish and chips. Might have been the frying fat, said the doctor, you might be allergic to its acidity. Will asked if he might also be allergic to being close to a girl, and he mentioned his evening out with Annie, their closeness in the tram and their extreme closeness when he kissed her.

‘Are we talking about physical excitement, Will?’ asked Dr McManus.

‘You did mention that,’ said Will, and the doctor said he
supposed
the Army medical specialists had mentioned a hundred and one possible elements. Will said they’d mentioned over-exertion as something to avoid, but hadn’t said a word about physical excitement. Ruddy hell, doctor, he said, if he couldn’t even kiss a girl without his bronchial tubes taking a hiding, what was the point of marrying one? Dr McManus said thousands of asthmatic men and women were married. Yes, said Will, but perhaps they can all do what comes naturally without wheezing and coughing over it.

‘Well, do those two things again,’ said Dr McManus.

‘What two things?’

‘Kissing your young lady and eating fried fish and chips. But not on the same day. Let’s see if one or the other affects you. If not, then do what you did before, enjoy them near to each other.’

‘Sounds barmy,’ said Will.

‘It might well be,’ smiled Dr McManus. ‘Do you carry your tablets about with you?’

‘I do now,’ said Will.

‘You should.’

So there it was, then. It wouldn’t do at this stage to give Annie any impression that he was courting her. It wouldn’t be fair to her. Annie deserved a bloke who was a hundred per cent fit.

‘Come on,’ she said, ‘what’s on your mind?’

‘Oh, just the Army,’ he said, ’and if I’m goin’ to be in or out of it.’

Annie wondered if his relationship with her had been anything to do with his idea about giving up the Army. She hoped he would.

They stopped by the tennis courts, all of which were being used.

‘Let’s sit and watch for a bit,’ she said. There was a
bench
vacant and they seated themselves. On another bench were a strong-looking man and a handsome woman. They were watching a tall man in a white cricket shirt and light grey flannels playing against a young and deliciously pretty girl in a white dress. Will recognized the players. The man, whom his family called Boots, was Sammy’s eldest brother. The girl, Rosie, was Boots’s daughter. Will had come to know them when Susie took him to meet the Adams family.

They were playing a typical father-and-daughter game, Boots teasing Rosie by making her chase from side to side, using his racquet in a lazy-looking way but making the ball fly over the net. Rosie, utterly involved, ran and scampered, the skirt of her short dress flying, her legs in white socks. She did more than chase after the ball, she yelled.

‘Daddy, you stinker!’

But she was heart and soul into the fun of it, as she always was when any kind of game was just between her and Boots and she had him all to herself. All her affinity with him surfaced then.

Will thought the watching man and woman were very taken with her. Well, she wasn’t bad at tennis. She had energy, enthusiasm and a good eye for a ball. Her enthusiasm was infectious. She screamed when Boots put a short one over, but she flew to get at it and just managed to plop it back. It left Boots stranded. She jumped up and down in her joy.

‘Isn’t she a young sport?’ said Annie. ‘I wish I could play tennis, it looks fun.’

‘If I could play meself,’ said Will, ‘I’d teach you. Mind you, Annie, I’ve played football for the battalion. Like me to teach you that?’

‘It’s always been me dearest wish to play football, I don’t think,’ said Annie, sitting close to him because she
liked
being close, and Will began trying to puzzle out why the natural pleasure of the contact set off the little stirring sensations that threatened to sensitize his bronchial tubes, as they had the other evening.

Rosie yelled again.

‘Daddy, I’ll stick pins in you!’

‘Play up, Rosie.’

‘Will, what a lovely girl,’ said Annie.

‘She’s Rosie Adams,’ said Will, ’and that’s her dad, Sammy’s eldest brother.’

‘Crikey, d’you know them?’ asked Annie.

‘Yes, I met all the Adams fam’ly, through Susie,’ said Will.

‘’Ave they all turned posh, then, the Adams?’

‘Not posh, no,’ said Will. ‘They used to live in the house we live in now. They bettered themselves when they left.’

‘I don’t blame them,’ said Annie. ‘I wish me dad had a chance to better ’imself, I bet he’d take it with both ’ands. Still, he’s not down in the dumps about it, nor me. Nor you, are you, Will? I mean, well, I think we’re betterin’ ourselves just sittin’ in the park and watchin’ the tennis, don’t you?’

‘Are we?’ asked Will, trying to ignore vibrations.

‘Well, if we were sittin’ on a doorstep in the Old Kent Road, we’d be more lower than better, wouldn’t we?’

‘More lower than better, yes, see what you mean,’ said Will, who thought the strong-looking man on the other bench was concentrating a very fixed pair of mince pies on the scampering Rosie.

‘It’s nice we agree,’ said Annie. ‘I thought, when I first met you, I thought what an ’orror, I bet his parents despair of ’im. I don’t know how you’ve managed to be such an improvin’ feller; it must be the improved company
you
’ve been keepin’. ’Ave you been goin’ out to look at cathedrals with our vicar? He’s ever so improvin’, and nice as well.’

Will grinned. He watched Rosie serving, he watched her dance on quick feet as she waited for the return. He thought about Sally. Sally had quick feet and enthusiasms. He could just see her dancing about on a tennis court if she’d been given the chance to learn the game.

On the other bench, Madge said, ‘Don’t you wish she was yours, Henry?’

‘What?’ said Henry Brannigan.

‘I mean don’t you wish she was your daughter? She’s a bit young for you otherwise.’

‘I’m lookin’, that’s all,’ he said.

‘You ought to ’ave ’ad kids, Henry,’ she said, ‘then you wouldn’t be such a lonely man. Come on, let’s go back to the flat and I’ll do us a nice Sunday tea, which I’d like to do, seein’ ’ow good you’re bein’ to me.’

He had increased her allowance to two pounds a week because she was giving him suppers and Sunday dinner. She didn’t think he’d only want food and company for ever. Well, when he wanted what was good for any real man, she’d be very willing.

Will and Annie left a few minutes later, Will deciding not to intrude on Boots and Rosie by making his presence known to them. Annie said he was going to have Sunday tea with her and her family, wasn’t he? Will, who had kept the vibrations at bay simply by listening to Annie and watching the tennis, said he’d be pleasured.