On Mother Brown's Doorstep (35 page)

Will was actually finding himself in a waiting mood. Not for an event, nor the speeches. It was Annie. Everyone seemed to have someone. Sally, unattached, seemed to have a pleasant-looking boy sending her pencilled notes by the hand of one of the caterers’ waitresses, and each one had her giggling. Will kept thinking about Annie, lively, spirited and always giving as
good
as she got. But she wouldn’t be here until about a quarter to five. He felt it was going to be a long wait. But what was the point of thinking about her? Here he was, chucked out of the Army on account of his asthma and having to look for a job that would be kind to him. He was no sort of a catch for a girl like Annie, or for any girl. Ruddy great balls of fire, he thought, I’m a mess, I’ll probably have an attack as soon as she arrives. Blow that for a lark.

Boots felt Rosie was safe for the time being, except that there was something lurking in the back of his mind, something that he couldn’t get hold of. What was it? The atmosphere of revelry was interfering with concentrated thought, and it prolonged the breakfast. But when it was finally over, Susie’s dad was the first to make a speech. It was in honour of the guests.

On his feet, he began by saying, ‘I don’t want none of you to worry, because I’m not goin’ to get you to listen to more than you want to ’ear.’

‘Good speech, Jim!’

‘Short an’ sweet, old mate.’

‘Give ’im a cheer.’

‘No, give ’im a beer.’

Rosie made herself heard with the aplomb of a girl already self-assured.

‘Don’t take any notice, Mr Brown, we’re all ears,’ she said. ‘At least, I am and so’s my Uncle Sammy.’

‘Thank you kindly, Rosie,’ said Mr Brown. ‘Anyway, I’ve only got a few words to mention, which is that me and my wife, Mrs Bessie Brown, who’s wearin’ a new titfer, wish to thank all of you for bein’ here in honour of our daughter Susie and ’er new better ’alf.’

‘What’s she done with ’er old one, then?’

‘Got ’im under the table, has she, Jim?’

‘If you don’t all keep quiet,’ said Freddy, ‘me dad won’t make ’is speech.’

‘’Ooray!’

‘’Ooray twice!’

‘Where was I?’ asked Mr Brown.

‘In honour of Susie and Sammy,’ said Boots.

‘Thank you kindly, Boots,’ said Mr Brown. ‘Yes, me an’ Bessie thank you all for bein’ with us today an’ for all your good wishes, and we ’ope everyone ’as a fine time without falling over, which some guests did when we got married ourselves. Is that the lot, Bessie?’

‘Yes, it’s our pleasure, Jim,’ said the smiling Mrs Brown.

‘Well, then, me an’ Bessie drink yer very good ’ealth,’ said Mr Brown.

‘Same to you, Jim!’

‘Same to you, Bessie!’

Boots was on his feet a few minutes later, with Rosie looking ready to giggle, Chinese Lady looking suspicious of the lurking smile on his face, and her husband Mr Finch looking as if his eldest stepson was going to be worth listening to.

‘Ladies—’

‘Where? What ladies?’ asked a wag.

‘Ladies and gentlemen—’

‘What’s he talkin’ about?’

‘You mean who’s he talkin’ about.’

‘They’re after you, Daddy,’ said Rosie.

‘Let’s have it, Boots,’ said Ned.

‘I’ll fire the next clever gent out of a cannon,’ said Boots.

‘Now, Boots, we don’t want any aggravatin’ talk,’ said Chinese Lady, ‘not on Sammy and Susie’s weddin’ day.’

‘Duly noted, old girl,’ said Boots. ‘Now, ladies and
gentlemen
, family life that begins with marriage needs to be blessed with good plumbing, and the first principle of good plumbing is all to do with frost-proof pipes. Frost-proofing can be achieved in several ways, all of which are described in Stopcock and Company’s plumbing manual.’

‘What’s that only oldest son of mine talkin’ about, Edwin?’ asked Chinese Lady of her husband.

‘Plumbing,’ said Mr Finch. ‘Good plumbing is dear to the hearts of all of us.’

‘Not at a weddin’ it’s not,’ said Chinese Lady.

‘I expect you all want to know how to deal with a burst pipe,’ said Boots. ‘You first find out where all the water’s coming from.’

‘Is that a fact?’ asked Tommy.

‘It’s news to me,’ said Sammy.

‘It’s useful information for newly-weds,’ said Boots, and went on to say that his mother, bless her cotton socks, had twice been a newly-wed and twice endowed with worldly goods, including good plumbing.

‘Is it me who’s goin’ barmy, or is it Boots?’ asked Mr Higgins.

‘I knew it,’ said Chinese Lady, ‘I knew that son of mine would go off his ’ead one day, I always said be would, but I never thought it would happen at his brother’s weddin’.’

‘Sounds all right to me, Mrs Finch,’ said Will, ‘and I know for a fact that Susie’s expectin’ Sammy to endow her with good plumbin’.’

‘Plumbing’s serious,’ said Sammy.

‘Especially if you can get ten per cent discount,’ said Susie.

Guests rolled about, and the bridesmaids were all in fits.

‘In addition to good plumbing,’ said Boots, ‘newly-weds need an efficient mangle.’

‘Of vhich I have a stock at five bob each,’ said Mr Greenberg, ‘and no charge for delivery.’

‘Good on yer, Eli!’

‘Ve are all friends,’ beamed Mr Greenberg.

‘Efficient mangles are a must,’ said Boots, ‘and so are ladies’ undergarments. Particularly for brides.’

‘Daddy!’ shrieked Rosie.

‘Stop him, someone,’ begged Susie.

‘Hit him, you mean,’ said Lizzy.

‘While I can’t speak as a gentleman,’ said Boots, ‘I can say, as a common or garden bloke, that brides not only go for good plumbing and efficient mangles, they’ve also got a thing about reliable elastic.’

‘Sammy, stop him!’ cried Susie.

‘Why, what’s he said?’ asked Sammy.

‘Keep goin,’ Boots,’ said Will, hoping that laughing moments wouldn’t affect his tubes.

Rachel thought, I should miss this? Not likely. What a family.

Boots touched on the subject of bridal trousseaux. He said he hadn’t seen Susie’s trousseau, but he had it on good authority from her sister Sally that it wisely contained some winter warmers.

‘I can’t hardly believe what I’m hearin’,’ said Chinese Lady.

‘Nor me,’ said Sally, close to hysterics.

‘It’s the winter weather,’ said Boots. If Sammy was rarely lost for hitting English on its head, Boots was never lost for whimsical or deceptive patter. And he was talking as much to divert himself as the guests. Something was still worrying him, something he felt he’d forgotten or overlooked. He caught Rosie’s eye, and Rosie waited in
delight
for his next piece of nonsense. ‘You’ll all be interested to know that Susie’s bottom drawer is as good as she hopes Sammy’s plumbing will be.’

‘Never mind the plumbin’,’ said Sammy, ‘just give me a list of me fancy expectations.’

‘Well,’ said Boots, ‘how’d you like the sound of four ladies’ woolly vests down to the knees, two red flannel petticoats and one plumbers’ spanner for giving you a headache?’

‘That’s out for a start,’ said Sammy. ‘I don’t like headaches except as a matter of business.’

‘I never heard anything more deplorable in all me life,’ said Chinese Lady, ‘and I can’t take kindly to you laughin’ about it, Edwin.’

‘Believe me, Maisie, I’m not laughing,’ said Mr Finch, ‘I’m crying.’

‘So am I,’ said Susie.

‘Don’t see why,’ said Will, ‘I like the sound of four woolly vests down to your knees, sis.’

‘I’ll kill Boots,’ said Susie.

‘You’ve done it now, Daddy,’ said Rosie.

‘Regarding the happy couple,’ said Boots, ‘I’ve known Sammy all his life, and it’s my considered opinion that if there were two more like him, the rest of us would be walking backwards.’

‘Granted,’ said Sammy.

‘Seconded,’ said Tommy.

‘Thirded,’ said Lizzy.

‘I’ve known Susie since she was sixteen,’ said Boots. ‘Sammy runs on electricity, Susie runs on sunshine. If you put two people like Susie and Sammy together, they’ll never have a freeze-up, even if their plumbing is a major disaster.’

‘Is that son of mine makin’ sense?’ asked Chinese Lady.

‘Now and again,’ said Mr Finch.

‘Sammy fell on his head when he first met Susie,’ said Boots, ‘and he’s still not right way up. Long may Susie keep him like that, it’s one way of emptying his pockets. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you the bride and groom and a long-lasting marriage.’

‘Well done, Boots,’ said Mr Finch, and everyone came to their feet to toast the happy couple. After which, Rosie whispered to Boots that she was sure his mum was going to box his ears.

‘Never a dull moment in this family, kitten,’ he said.

‘Mummy’s still laughing,’ said Rosie, ‘I think she’s getting better, don’t you?’

‘Thumbs up to that, Rosie.’

Sammy’s speech was appreciated by one and all. He admitted Susie had floored him, and that she answered him back as well, but it hadn’t been painful all the time, and he was hoping to make a recovery. He further admitted he had had to hand Susie all his worldly goods on account of the vicar listening, and he could only hope she’d let him have enough back to take care of his overheads. He thanked Mrs Brown for having had Susie as a result of a twinkle in Mr Brown’s eye, and he thanked them both for making sure that Susie hadn’t run off with a floor-walker, as that would have upset him no end. He hoped that as his wife she’d cure herself of answering him back. He thanked everyone for their presents, and he thanked his mother for bringing him up to be virtuous, charitable and a bit of all right in the business world. Modesty prevented him saying more than that. He complimented Mr Finch on becoming his stepfather, and he complimented the bridesmaids on looking highly adorable. He proposed a toast to them, and he himself toasted his bride.

‘Good luck, Susie!’

‘Good on yer, Sammy!’

‘Bless you both,’ said Mrs Brown happily.

There was an interval before the three-piece band arrived and dancing began. Ladies took themselves off to their cloakroom and Boots took himself into the street. The uniformed constable was patrolling about. Boots asked him if he was acting under instructions. The constable said yes, that his orders were to make sure that Ponsonby, the wanted man, did not enter the Institute or intrude on the wedding celebrations in any way. A colleague was just round the corner in Brandon Street to check on people entering Larcom Street. There was a third man near the vicarage and church, watching people coming up from Charleston Street or from the Walworth Road. In addition, there were scores of men combing the whole area.

‘Thanks,’ said Boots, ‘I’ll have cups of tea and some wedding cake sent out to you and your colleague in a while.’

‘Kind of you, Mr Adams, we’ll appreciate that. Good luck, sir.’

He and Rosie needed that, did they? If so, how much? Ponsonby, obviously, was still at large. He went back into the hall. Everyone, of course, knew about the murders and a man who’d been charged by the police. What they didn’t know was that the slippery bugger had escaped custody. Well, there was no point in telling them, no point in introducing an ugly note. It was Susie’s big day. Let it stay like that.

There was a queue tailing back from the ladies’ cloakroom beyond the stage, and the caterers were busy setting out cups and saucers and making huge pots of tea. The cake was waiting to be cut. Susie and Sammy were
circulating
in dutiful and sociable fashion, talking to as many guests as possible. Boots looked instinctively for Rosie. Young Tim was his pal, Rosie his sweetheart. He sometimes had to be careful not to show more attention to the girl than the boy, and Rosie herself took care to see that Tim was never pushed into the background.

Will came up, a smile on his face. Boots liked Will, he liked the whole of the Brown family, very much a reminder of his own when they were living in Caulfield Place.

‘How’s it goin’, Boots?’ asked Will.

‘It’s going well for Susie,’ said Boots. ‘Have you seen Rosie?’

‘She’s over there, with Freddy, Cassie and your niece Annabelle. Sally’s gone into hidin’. There’s a young bloke from your offices tryin’ to turn her into his girlfriend.’

Sally appeared then, a young vision in pink.

‘Who’s this?’ asked Boots.

‘Boots, it’s me,’ said Sally.

‘Well, don’t go home too early,’ said Boots, ‘not before I’ve had a dance with you.’

Sally turned a thrilled pink that almost matched her cerise dress. Boots was her hero after what he’d done for Cassie yesterday. Will recognized her then as a girl with a crush.

‘Oh, I’ll be ever so pleasured,’ she said. ‘Boots, ’as Will told you the Army’s goin’ to discharge ’im?’

‘Is that a fact, Will?’ asked Boots.

‘Had an official letter this mornin’,’ said Will.

‘With an offer of a pension?’ asked Boots, glancing across the hall at Rosie.

‘Not a word,’ said Will.

‘Well, we’ll go to work on it together,’ said Boots. ‘I’ll come and see you sometime next week.’

‘Oh, ain’t you nice?’ said Sally.

‘The Ministry of Pensions won’t think so,’ said Boots.

‘Blow them,’ said Sally.

‘I won’t say five bob a week wouldn’t be useful,’ said Will.

‘We’ll start by getting you to ask for two quid,’ said Boots.

‘Two quid?’ said Sally, blinking.

‘Will won’t get it,’ said Boots, ‘but it’ll send the Ministry into a panic. That’ll give Will a chance to settle for twelve and six, or ten bob at the worst.’

‘I’m not proud,’ said Will.

‘Nor am I,’ said Boots, ‘it alters the shape of your face.’

Sally laughed. Boots had a quiet word with a waitress about tea for the policemen.

The tables had all been folded and stowed away, except for two covered with cups and saucers. The hot tea was ready and the wedding cake was cut amid the sounds of revelry. Boots went across to Emily, who had just taken young Tim in hand and was trying to show him how to dance the Boston Two-Step. Boots collected a cup of tea on the way and gave it to Emily.

‘Lovely,’ she said, ‘just what I need.’

‘Sit down and drink it,’ said Boots. The chairs now lined the walls.

‘But I’ve already been sittin’ for ages,’ said Emily.