The Bells of Bow (29 page)

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Authors: Gilda O'Neill

Tags: #Chick-Lit, #Family Saga, #Fiction, #Love Stories, #Relationships, #Romance, #Women's Fiction

BOOK: The Bells of Bow
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Evie nearly vomited at the thought of going on the packed, smoke-filled Tube. ‘I can’t, Babs. I’m sorry. I’ll stay down on the platform till the all clear if that’ll make yer any happier, but I can’t go on no train. I really ain’t well.’

Torn as she was between leaving her twin and finding out if their dad was safe, Babs knew that she had to get back to Darnfield Street. She had only been saying to Blanche that very morning how well things had been going for Georgie lately. Now, as she ran though the streets back to Bow, she felt she had been tempting fate.

Although he was now even more tired than he would have thought possible without falling asleep on his feet, Georgie was glad that he had gone back to the station. They needed all the help they could get during the night of almost nonstop raids. The word was that there were over twice as many planes as usual dropping their deadly cargoes over London; nobody knew if that was true, but it certainly seemed like it.

When he finally drove the heavy unit back into the yard at gone nine o’clock the next morning, all he was fit for was the short crawl from the engine’s cab to the mess room.

‘I’m gonna murder this cup of tea,’ he yawned, as he slumped down at one of the trestle tables. ‘Don’t matter how much yer drink when yer out there, yer can never quench yer thirst while yer’ve got that stink of fire in yer nostrils.’

One of the women from the watch room came in and sat down next to him. ‘I know yer knackered, Ringer,’ she said to him gently. ‘But I think yer wanna get home. We heard a couple of hours ago that Darnfield Street got hit.’

Without saying a word, Georgie sprang to his feet and, not even noticing the weight of his soaking wet uniform, sprinted off as though he was a man half his age who had had a full eight hours’ sleep.

‘They’ve gotta be all right,’ he kept repeating to himself. ‘They’ve gotta be.’

Georgie was frantic by the time he reached the corner of Darnfield Street. A group of his neighbours was sitting huddled over cups of tea on the pavement outside the Drum. He could barely force himself to look to see who was there.

He nearly collapsed with relief when he saw that two of them were his daughters.

He dropped down on the kerb between Babs and Evie and buried his head in his hands. ‘When they told me back at the station that the street had got hit, all I could think of was …’ He slowly let his hands fall from his face and looked along to the canal end of the road. ‘I never realised that the demolition squad was here. They look hard at it.’ He half rose to his feet. ‘It wasn’t number seven what got hit, was it?’

Babs put her hand on his shoulder. ‘No. Sit yerself down, Dad. Don’t worry. Miss Peters ain’t hurt.’

‘So where is she?’

‘The pub’s the only place with water, so she’s inside helping Nellie make the tea for everyone. All them blokes working down there must be gasping.’

Evie stared into her cup. ‘It was the house next door to Miss Peters what got it.’ Her voice sounded flat, as if she was in a trance. ‘The Jenners.’ She gulped down a mouthful of her tea, ‘Their baby. It’s dead.’

‘Aw, Christ. Not the baby.’ Georgie shook his head, but all he could see was a picture of Sal lying in the rubble with a baby by her side instead of her little dog.

‘And Ted’s old nan. She’s copped it and all,’ Babs said, rubbing Georgie’s back: ‘Blimey, Dad. Yer uniform’s soaked through and yer look that tired. Let me get yer a cup o’ tea and then yer can go home and get some kip, eh?’

It was as though Georgie hadn’t heard her. ‘Them poor buggers.’

‘I know, Dad. But how about that cuppa?’

‘I’ll have some tea in a minute,’ Georgie said, struggling to his feet. ‘I’ve gotta see if there’s anything I can do to help.’

Just as he got to the wreck that had once been the Jenners’s home, Maudie caught up with him.

‘I saw the girls back there. They told me you were here.’

Georgie ran his hands through his gritty, smoke-clogged hair. He could imagine what a state he looked. ‘How are you?’

Maudie shrugged. ‘The back of my roof got hit, that’s all. But, compared with this, that hardly seems to matter.’

Alice Clarke came striding over from where she had been standing right up the front by the rescue workers. ‘Well,
you
might think it don’t matter,’ she snapped at Maudie, ‘but yer wanna see the mess in my back yard. Half your roof tiles I’ve got in there. What yer gonna do about it?’

Maudie rolled her eyes disbelievingly at George. ‘I’ll make sure it’s sorted out, Alice.’

‘Well yer wanna make sure yer do.’ Alice folded her scraggy little arms and nodded to where Ted and Liz stood in a daze, watching as the men brought a ragbag of smashed and broken things out of the ruins of the house. ‘Should have gone in the Drum’s cellar like the rest of us.’

Georgie ignored her. ‘Don’t make sense, does it, when that bloody empty house opposite’s still standing.’ He stepped a bit closer to Ted and Liz, not close enough to impose, but close enough not to have to shout. ‘Anything I can do, mate?’

Ted hugged Liz to him and shook his head. ‘Nothing no one can do, ta, Ringer.’

‘Yer’ve only gotta ask.’

‘Yeah. I know.’

Georgie stood there as the rescue squad workers clambered through the inside of what had been the privacy of the Jenners’s home but was now exposed for everyone to see like the guts of a slaughtered animal. One of the men reached up and unhooked a looking glass that was hanging crookedly from a nail but had somehow not been smashed by the blast. He loaded it onto the pushchair he had just dragged from under a pile of bricks and pushed it, bumping crazily over the rubble, out onto the pavement.

When she saw her baby’s pushchair, Liz pulled away from her husband and started laughing wildly. ‘Look, the mirror’s all right,’ she shrieked. ‘So at least we won’t have seven years’ bad luck, eh, Ted? Eh? Eh? Eh?’ Then she let out a terrifying animal wail, folded in on herself like a rag doll and collapsed in a heap onto the cold, hard road.

One of the Jenner children, a boy of about six who was standing with his equally bewildered brothers and sisters, started to cry. His little arms hanging loose by his side, he made no attempt to wipe away the tears. ‘Daddy?’ he pleaded. ‘What’s wrong with Mummy?’

Maudie took off her coat and wrapped it and her arms round the crying child. ‘Mummy doesn’t feel well,’ she said softly, soothing the petrified little boy.

‘Needs to pull herself together, that one,’ sniped Alice.

Ted bent down beside Liz and cradled her in his lap, rocking her back and forth as though she, too, were a frightened child. ‘Everything’ll be fine, darling, you see,’ he said, his jaw rigid. ‘I’ll find somewhere for us. Don’t you worry. I’ll get us another home.’

Maudie glared at Alice, daring her to say another word, and then said quietly to Ted, ‘I hope I’m not interfering, but the kids are all badly shaken. Let me take them indoors. I can put you all up, for as long as you like.’

Ted looked up at her. ‘That’s kind of yer,’ he said flatly.

‘Yer wanna remember that yer’ve gotta clear up them tiles,’ Alice butted in.

Maudie didn’t even look at Alice. ‘Not kind at all, Ted,’ Maudie insisted. ‘There’s more than enough room.’

Liz lifted her head, her red tear-filled eyes darting around as if she was being hounded by some unseen predator. ‘No. No, Ted. I wanna go to the rest centre round the school. I don’t wanna stay here. Not here. Please. Not where my baby …’ She pushed Ted away from her and staggered to her feet. She just managed to get to the drain in the side of the road before she threw up.

Maudie moved forward to help her, the child still clinging tightly to her side, but she stopped when Ted held up his hand to prevent her from getting any closer to his wife. ‘We don’t need any help. Thanks. We’ll be all right.’ There wasn’t a hint of either hope or belief in what he said.

Liz looked up. Even though it was so cold, her hair was damp with sweat, stuck to her forehead in black, snaking tendrils. ‘You could help out with the arrangements,’ she said to Maudie as she swayed unsteadily from side to side. Her voice sounded harsh and rasping. ‘You could speak to the vicar for me. I want it all done proper.’

‘Of course.’ Maudie wanted so much to reach out to her, but she knew she couldn’t. All she could do was cling tight to the little boy. ‘On the day of the …’ Maudie struggled to find the right words, ‘… the day of the service, you could arrange for the cars to leave from my house. If you want, that is.’

Liz pressed her lips together and closed her eyes. Then she took a deep breath and stared directly at Maudie. ‘Thanks, Miss Peters, I’d appreciate that.’ She turned to her husband. ‘Ted, I wanna get away from here. Now.’

Ted nodded. He took one of the Woodbines from the packet that Georgie held out to him and stuck it, unlit, into the corner of his mouth. Then he gathered up the few things that remained of their home and handed them to the bigger children to carry. Without a glance behind him, he took Liz by the arm and led her away. The little boy who had been standing with Maudie looked up at her. A final, single tear ran down his cheek. He wiped his nose on the rough sleeve of his hand-me-down jacket and ran over to join his brothers and sisters who were following their parents silently, their heads bowed and their arms full of battered and broken bits and pieces, for all the world like a group of refugees who had been ejected from their homeland.

All that was left of the Jenners in Darnfield Street was the baby’s pushchair.

Maudie sighed loudly and blew her nose. ‘How much more can people take?’ She was asking herself as much as Georgie. ‘What’ll be left at this rate?’

Georgie stared up at the broken husk that had once been number nine. ‘You know what they say, “London can take it”. Just let’s hope they’re right, Maud.’ Without thinking, Georgie put his arm round her shoulders, but almost immediately he pulled it hurriedly away. ‘I’m so sorry,’ he stammered. ‘I didn’t mean to do that. I must be tired. I didn’t mean to take no liberties.’

Maudie looked up at him through her tears. ‘With all this,’ she said waving her arms helplessly around her, ‘I think we’re past all that now, George, don’t you?’

Georgie nodded. ‘I reckon yer right, Maud.’

‘Maud? George?’ sneered Alice. ‘Do me a favour.’

From the look on Georgie’s face, Alice was lucky that Blanche came running across the street towards them just then. ‘Ringer, can you help us? Please.’ Tears were streaming down her cheeks. ‘If only my Archie was here. But I don’t know what to do. When we went over home from the Drum just now, we found it. Look. Aw, Ringer. Is it …?’

Young Len held out his pet rabbit for Georgie to look. ‘There’s no marks on it or nothing, Mr Bell,’ he said anxiously. ‘I think it’s just asleep.’

Georgie took the limp creature from the boy’s arms and examined it. ‘I’m sorry, son,’ he said gently. ‘It must have been the shock of the bombs what done it.’

‘I should never have started that bloody job. We should have stayed in Cornwall.’

Len took the rabbit tenderly back from Georgie and buried his face into its still warm fur. ‘I wanna go back there, Mum. Please, let me.’

Blanche stood there, helpless, not knowing what to say or what to do.

Maudie reached her hand out to Len. ‘Come on, love,’ she said. ‘Let’s go and bury him. We can put him in my back yard if you want. There’s a lot of nice plants there. I bet he’d like that.’

Alice couldn’t believe her ears. ‘Do what? Yer gonna bury a rabbit? Yer wanna stick it in the pot with a few veg and a bit o’ gravy.’

Maudie turned to face her mean-minded neighbour. ‘Why don’t you just shut your interfering mouth, Alice, before someone does it for you?’

Without waiting for Alice’s reply, Maudie went to help Len bury his rabbit, and with it a piece of his childhood that she knew would never return.

17

‘It was nice of that chap down the Roman to let you have all this ham.’ Maudie put down the plate of sandwiches she had made on the big trestle table that Nellie had set up at the far end of the bar.

‘People chip in at a time like this for poor sods like the Jenners,’ said Nellie with a rueful smile. ‘Brings out the best in ’em.’

Maudie wiped her hands on the apron that Nellie had given her to wear over her black crepe dress. ‘What can I do next?’

Nellie looked up at the big, brass clock that stood on the shelf among the bottles of spirits and luridly coloured liqueurs. ‘Sure yer’ve got enough time?’

Maudie looked at her watch. ‘Ted’s due to bring Liz and the children over to mine at about half past twelve. So I’ve got about a quarter of an hour.’

‘Well, so long as it don’t make yer late. Tell yer what, d’yer fancy making us all a cuppa? The kettle’s already simmering on the hob, it only wants the gas turning up.’ Nellie slumped beside Babs on one of the bench seats that ran along the wall. ‘I dunno about you, Maud, but I could do with a cup. I’m whacked out.’

‘I bet you are. You’ve not stopped since I’ve been here, and that was first thing. I’ll make the tea then I’ll nip back home to make sure I’m in when Ted and Liz arrive.’ Maudie ducked under the counter flap and went through to the kitchen.

Babs eyebrows shot up. ‘You called her Maud,’ she whispered. ‘What’s all that in aid of?’

Nellie shrugged. ‘Don’t ask me, it’s what she told me to start calling her.’ As she spoke, Nellie stood up and started fiddling about with the plates of sandwiches, the bowls of winkles, cockles and eels and the dishes of pickled onions and red cabbage. She moved them around on the cloth-covered table, critically eyeing the various rearrangements, until she was satisfied with the result. ‘Changed woman, she is. Looks ten years younger. But as to what’s done it …’

‘You know as well as I do,’ Babs said, also getting up and putting the sandwiches that Nellie had just moved back to where she had set them down in the first place.

‘Well, I suppose I do. I reckon making friends with your dad’s brought her right out of her shell lately.’

‘It’s done Dad good and all. He’s been like a different person.’

Nellie smiled noncommittally. She wanted to see how long Ringer’s new way of carrying on lasted before she was prepared to pass any judgement on it. ‘Now let’s both stop messing around with the food and take the weight off our feet.’ Nellie sat down on the bench again and patted the place next to her. ‘Come on. Sit down.’

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