The Bells of Bow (63 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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Georgie nodded grimly to himself, thinking about how his struggles to bring up his daughters had so nearly failed because he had let himself sink into becoming a self-pitying drunk.

‘They were wonderful people, George, Richard’s parents. They loved me just as much as they would have loved any daughter of their own.’ She looked directly at him. ‘Just as much as Babs loves Betty,’ she said. ‘And I never felt that I missed out because they weren’t my own parents.’

Georgie couldn’t sit there any longer. He got up, took her hand and pulled her to him. ‘I’m glad you trusted me enough to tell me, Maud,’ he whispered into her hair. ‘It helps explain all sorts of things. I feel I really know yer now. That I understand yer.’

She rested her head against his chest. ‘And I’m glad I told you. Perhaps it’ll help you understand other things as well, about the twins and Betty. I know we sometimes have to just take what life gives us, but at other times we have to take a chance, grab something special when it comes along. Try not to blame Eve, George.’

He stepped away from her and put the fire guard round the hearth. ‘Let’s go over to your place, Maud,’ he said, holding his hand out to her. ‘I think I should see where I’m gonna be sleeping.’

38

Maud and Georgie were sitting in the cosy little front room of number seven Darnfield Street, the home they now shared. They had finished their evening meal and were listening to the wireless, waiting to hear the broadcast that would tell them that, this time, their hopes for peace were no longer wishful thinking and that the war was officially over. And, with the way things had been going for the last six weeks, they had every right to be optimistic. It certainly didn’t seem likely, or even possible, that the news could be otherwise.

But when, at six o’clock, the announcer said that Mr Churchill would not be making a statement that night, Georgie and Maud, like many other Londoners, were disappointed and more than a bit puzzled.

Georgie got up and turned the set off, and he and Maud sat there for a while in silence. Then they began going over and over all the possibilities as to why the Prime Minister hadn’t spoken, and trying to work out what might have happened or gone wrong. But, for all their efforts, they were still none the wiser.

‘Aw well,’ said Georgie. ‘Might as well do what we always do at times like this – I’ll go and make us a nice cuppa tea.’

He was just bringing the tea through to the front room when there was a terrific banging on the front door and the sound of Babs shouting at him through the letter box to open up and let her in.

‘Hang on,’ he called. He chuckled to himself as he put the cups down on the stairs. ‘Can’t you youngsters wait for anything?’

As he opened the door, Babs burst into the passage.

‘Did you hear it, Dad?’ she shouted. Her eyes were shining and she was grinning fit to burst.

‘Hear what?’

Maudie appeared in the passage behind George. She stood on tiptoes and looked over his shoulder. ‘What’s happened?’

‘On the wireless, just now. Tomorrow and the next day are national holidays.’ Babs paused for them both to take it in. ‘It’s all over, Dad. Maud. The war’s finished. It’s true.’

Maudie’s hand flew to her mouth. ‘It really is all over?’

Georgie stepped out onto the pavement, picked up Babs and swung her round. ‘And we’re alive to tell the tale!’

Maudie closed her eyes and threw back her head. ‘Just think, I’ll be able to fill up that bath and have a proper soak without having to worry about doodlebugs landing on me.’

‘Be able to get a decent bit of grub,’ grinned Georgie.

‘New clothes, more like,’ giggled Babs. ‘Get yer priorities right, you two.’

All along the street front doors and windows were being flung open as the neighbours stuck their heads out to share the good news with their friends.

‘Go over and fetch Harry, Babs. We’re going down the Drum to start our celebrations right now.’

The next day dawned grey and wild. And, just as nearly six years ago the last night of peace had been marked by violent, electric storms, so the early hours of V-E Day were marked by a torrential downpour.

But not even hangovers or bad weather could dampen the spirits of the residents of Darnfield Street. Everyone got up early regardless; they were determined that after six years of war they were going to have a party that everyone would remember.

Babs and Blanche enlisted Harry, Georgie and Blanche’s young Len to help them decorate the street. They had strings of fairy lights that Maudie had produced from a dusty old box under her stairs and yards and yards of bunting that Babs and Blanche, like the other girls at Styleways, had been making for the past two weeks in preparation for the big day they had all been praying for, Mr Silver being only too pleased, in the circumstances, to turn a blind eye to their clandestine efforts.

Frankie Morgan brought out a whole collection of Union Jacks that he and Nobby draped over the trestle tables that Bert and Jim had set up along the middle of the street.

Everyone mucked in to do something. And, by the afternoon, when the weather had cleared up, everyone was outside and ready. The tables were laden with whatever food the neighbours had found in their cupboards and Rita and Bert had donated their whole day’s baking; there was plenty of beer and lemonade, partly bought from the proceeds of the street’s whip-round and the rest supplied by Jim and Nellie from the Drum’s cellar.

By three o’clock, everyone had dressed in their best clothes, steps had been scrubbed and windows washed. The street had put on its finest.

‘Ready?’ called Frankie and blew two loud blasts on his warden’s whistle.

Windows were opened wide and wireless sets were turned up full and the whole street gathered together to listen to the Prime Minister’s announcement. This time Churchill did speak as promised and, when he had finished, there was wild cheering and the party in Darnfield Street began.

At first it was quite a refined affair with people handing one another plates and offering round sandwiches and drinks, but that wasn’t good enough for Nellie; she definitely wasn’t impressed by such sedate behaviour.

She stood, hands on hips, at the end of the tables and bellowed, ‘What’s this meant to be, a bloody Mothers’ Meeting? We’re supposed to be enjoying ourselves. Maud, the fellers are dragging me piano out of the bar up there,’ she said, jerking her thumb towards the top of the turning. ‘I’ve told ’em to fetch it down here a bit. And you’d better start playing right away ’cos that Nobby’s had his eye on it, and I ain’t having him bashing away on the poor bloody thing.’

‘Can’t have that, can we?’ Georgie said to Maud with a wink.

‘And you, Babs,’ said Nellie, pointing along the table to where Babs was sitting with Harry and Betty. ‘You can give us a song. Come on, get this mob dancing.’

Maud and Babs did as they were told and soon the party had turned into a proper old-fashioned knees-up. They danced and sang to all the old favourites and hardly noticed when the daylight faded and lights began shining all around the neighbourhood.

‘Mum. Mum.’

‘Excuse me a minute, Bert,’ said Blanche. She turned round to see who was tugging at her sleeve, leaving the baker to do a solo dance in the middle of the street.

It was Len.

‘What, darling?’

‘I think we’d better get that fire lit soon,’ he said eagerly, nodding his head towards the bonfire he had been building so busily for the past fortnight on the waste ground that had once been the Jenners’s house.

Blanche ruffled her youngest son’s hair affectionately. ‘Yer desperate to get them matches to it, ain’t yer, mate?’

‘Please, Mum, let me light it now. I’ve nicked all them tarry blocks from round the corner. They’ll go right up. Lovely.’

Blanche smiled happily. ‘And to think I was worried about you turning into a little carrot cruncher down there in Cornwall.’

‘Mum,’ he whined.

‘Yer’ll have to ask yer dad.’

‘Ask Dad? I’m nearly fifteen.’

‘Go on then,’ said Blanche, chucking him under the chin. ‘But mind yer eyes with them stones spitting out of the blocks.’

‘Yes, Mum.’

‘’Cos if you get yerself hurt, yer dad’ll kill me.’

Len soon had the bonfire roaring, and the sight of the flames leaping high into the night sky drew everyone to it like a magnet.

Georgie and Maud stood next to Harry who was giving Betty a flying angel ride so that she could see what was going on all around her.

‘Did yer make sure Flash was shut in, babe?’ Harry asked Babs, shielding his eyes with his hand from the heat and the brilliant light. ‘Yer know her. She won’t like this very much.’

‘Yer right. I’d better go and check,’ said Babs. She reached up to lift Betty down from his shoulders. ‘And I’ll take this young lady in at the same time. She should have been in bed a long time ago.’

‘No,’ Betty grizzled. ‘I wanna stay with Nanna.’

Babs smiled at Maud and explained. ‘I thought she was entitled to have a nanna. Every little girl is.’

Maudie bit her lip to stop herself from bursting into tears. ‘Well, in that case,’ she gulped, ‘I’d better be the one to put my little girl to bed then, hadn’t I?’

Betty reached down to Maudie.

‘Are you coming with Betty and her nanna, Granddad?’ Maud asked Georgie proudly.

He nodded. He kissed Babs on the cheek. ‘This is turning out to be one of the best days, girl.’

If Ethel and Alice were impressed with the proceedings, they weren’t letting on.

‘Look at that old fool,’ said Ethel to Alice with a contemptuous shake of her head as her husband, Frankie, helped young Len throw another big piece of timber into the flames.

The sparks flew into the air and Frankie whooped and laughed like a child.

‘Bloody men,’ grumbled Alice. ‘Never grow up. My Nobby’s exactly the same.’

‘You just watch yerself, Frankie,’ shouted Ethel. ‘Yer’ll set light to yer bleed’n trousers at that rate, and I ain’t putting ’em out for yer.’

‘No fear,’ said Alice, with a shudder. ‘Dunno where they’ve been.’

Harry put his arm round Babs. ‘You all right?’ he asked. ‘Not too hot?’

Babs shook her head. ‘I’m fine.’ She nestled closer to Harry. ‘I wonder what Evie’s doing? D’yer think maybe she’ll try and get up from Essex to see us soon?’

‘Don’t bank on it, will yer Babs,’ Harry said and kissed her gently on the top of her head. ‘She’ll be too busy getting all her gear ready to take to the States.’

‘I know yer just trying to make me feel better,’ said Babs sadly. ‘Yer a kind bloke, Harry Taylor.’

‘Course I am!’ He pulled Babs back as a stone spat from the now blazing bonfire. ‘Oi, watch it, Len, or we’ll have to get Ringer out with the hoses if you ain’t careful.’

‘Frankie!’ hollered Ethel. ‘Will you behave your stupid self?’

‘Can we go over there and get a drink or something?’ Babs asked quietly.

‘Course.’ Harry took her hand and led her away.

When they got to the tables, Babs bowed her head and started weeping bitterly.

Harry looked aghast. ‘Babs, don’t. What’s the matter?’

‘Harry,’ she wailed. ‘I’m so worried about her.’ She clung on to him and sobbed into his shoulder.

‘Oi, you.’ Someone tapped Harry on the back. ‘You making my sister cry?’

Babs spun round. ‘Eve! What you doing here?’ She wiped her tears away with the back of her hand.

Evie lifted the glamorous sequin-dotted veil from her face and folded it back over the crown of her hat. She opened her bag and handed Babs an expensive-looking lacy handkerchief. ‘I ain’t stopping,’ she said. ‘I just dropped in on me way back to Essex. Been up West to the officers’ club.’ She turned to Harry. ‘My Ray’s been promoted again.’ Evie closed her eyes. ‘Yer should see it, that club. It’s terrific.’ She opened her eyes again. ‘And the West End! There’s lights on
everywhere
. The whole place is just lit up like a Christmas tree. And honestly you can hardly push yer way through all the crowds ’cos of the singing and dancing.’ She laughed, throwing her head back and showing her white even teeth to perfection against her expertly made-up face. ‘There was people swinging from lampposts. Truth. And spilling out of all the pubs onto the streets. All linking arms with one another. All in love with being alive and with whoever happened to be on their arm.’ She sighed longingly. ‘Everyone was kissing everyone else. Here, yer’ll never guess who I saw up there? Lou, from the factory, with an airman, she was. Having a right good time and all. Yer should have gone up there with her instead of staying round this dump.’

Babs blinked away the last of her tears. ‘You finished?’ she asked.

‘Eh? Finished what?’

Babs looked into her twin’s eyes, the eyes that had once been indistinguishable from her own but were now so different. Now they were hard, glittering in response to something that Babs could no longer understand. ‘Finished showing off,’ she said. ‘Some of us didn’t wanna go up West.’ She held out Evie’s handkerchief to her. ‘Like me, for instance. I wanted to stay here in Darnfield Street. With people I care about.’

Evie brushed away the hankie and laughed dismissively. ‘You always did want to stay here. Even as a kid.’

‘Yeah. Maybe I did.’

Evie took her gloves from her bag and began easing them onto her hands over her scarlet-painted nails. ‘Well, I can’t stop. I just wanted to say goodbye. We’re leaving next week.’

‘Yer mean you ain’t coming back? Yer not coming to see—’

‘No,’ Evie interrupted her quickly. ‘No,’ she said again. Then she kissed Babs firmly on both cheeks and waved her fingers at Harry. ‘Gotta be going. Ray’s waiting for me in a cab round the corner. Give my love to Dad and Maud, won’t yer.’

The twins looked at each other for a long, silent moment.

‘And to Betty,’ Evie added, with a tight little smile. Then she turned on her heel and ran off along the street.

Babs stared down at the ground. ‘I wonder how she’ll manage without me, Harry?’ she whispered.

Harry held her close to him and stroked her hair. ‘Like she always does, babe. With a saucy smile and more cheek than a barrowload of monkeys. Gawd help that Ray, Babs, that’s all I can say. I just hope he knows what he’s let himself in for.’

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