The Lodger (24 page)

When Emma left for home at one o'clock, the watching eyes were at her back and at a distance.

Inspector Greaves was tersely dismissive of Mr Jerry Bates as a suspect. What had made Nicholas have a second go at the man? Just a feeling, said Nicholas.

‘Again? What comes next, your own crystal ball?' Inspector Greaves was growling. ‘Or perhaps you'll get your landlady to read your tea leaves for you.'

Nicholas was now poring over reports, hoping to find a pertinent something that had escaped him.

Mr Bates, returning from a day in the City on Wednesday evening, presented the girls with a toffee-apple each. They were all delighted, except Trary, who said thank you but she didn't lick toffee-apples at her age.

Trary was putting her hopes in Mr Bradshaw, who had invited the family to the Zoo on Sunday. She thought there was promise in that, even though Mr Bates was making himself more at home. Still, her mum was taking that in her stride. She was ever such a cool one sometimes, when you couldn't tell what she was thinking. Actually, Maggie was beginning to suspect that after several years as a widow, she suddenly had two men interested in her, both very pleasant. Not that she thought either of them had serious intentions regarding a widow with four girls. But it was nice to feel men could still be interested, as long as they didn't have the wrong ideas about her.

She went to see Mr George Gardner, who ran the newsagents situated a little way past East Street. Mr Gardner, thin and harassed, told her he'd decided he'd got to have help in the mornings or he'd get run off his feet and die an early death. Maggie said she was willing to save him from that. Mr Gardner said that was kind of her, but she'd have to start at eight o'clock and work through to twelve, Mondays to Fridays. His daughter, still at school, helped at weekends. Maggie knew she could rely on Trary to see that her sisters had their porridge before they went to school. She'd take the job, she said. How much would Mr Gardner pay her? Five bob, a shilling for each morning. He couldn't offer more. Maggie couldn't turn down five bob. She accepted the job. Mr Gardner said he was pleased, specially as she'd been highly recommended by Constable Bradshaw. She'd got to watch kids who came in for a ha'porth of suckers, as some of them were little . . . well, no, he couldn't repeat that in front of a lady. Maggie promised to watch them, and to start on Monday.

Emma was quite surprised when the weekend arrived and Sergeant Chamberlain had not, after all, found an excuse to call on her again. Dear me, she thought, am I really to be left alone to enjoy my life in the way I've become accustomed to? How kind of you, Sergeant Chamberlain.

Her neighbours said the police were still out and about, still asking questions all over Walworth, they were. You could always spot their flat feet. Emma couldn't recall Sergeant Chamberlain having flat feet.

By Saturday morning, Trary was feeling miffed. That Bobby Reeves, he'd just disappeared from her life. She hadn't seen anything of him since Monday, when he'd brought Mr Bradshaw's flowers for her mum and a pair of nearly-new black silk stockings for her. Mum had washed them, of course. You had to do that with second-hand things. Trary was going to wear them to the Zoo.

She had looked for her talking boy every afternoon when leaving school, but he hadn't been there. She got haughtier about it every day. On Saturday morning, her mum said, ‘I 'aven't seen much of Bobby since Monday, love.'

‘Who?' asked Trary distantly.

‘Bobby.'

‘Oh, him. Well, I can't talk now, Mum, I'm goin' out to meet a school friend.'

Mr Bates presented his companionable self to Maggie on her return from market shopping. All the girls were out.

‘Just the lady I'm lookin' for,' he said.

‘I'm a bit busy,' said Maggie, unloading shopping on which she'd spent money carefully. She was never going to get into debt any more. It irked her, of course, that she owed so much money to her lodger, good-hearted though he was.

‘I won't keep you, Maggie. Look.' Mr Bates produced some tickets. ‘I didn't forget that yer girls said they'd never been to the Zoo. I'm goin' to take all of you tomorrow, and with these tickets we walk straight in, we don't have to join the Sunday queue.'

Maggie stared at them, hardly able to believe what a coincidence they represented. She lifted her gaze to her lodger. His smile was warm and affectionate. ‘It don't make sense,' she said. ‘You're not 'aving me on, are you?'

‘I'm straight as a die with you, Maggie.'

‘Well, I'm sorry,' she said, ‘but we all happen to be goin' with Mr Bradshaw.'

‘Eh?' Mr Bates looked very taken aback. ‘The local copper that 'ad tea with you last Sunday?'

‘He's a kind man, and a friend,' said Maggie. ‘I must say, I've never been more surprised, 'aving you offering to take us after we've already been invited by him.'

‘Well, can't be helped, it's just my 'ard luck.' Mr Bates smiled ruefully. ‘I'll hand the tickets to some of the street kids. No, I'll keep one, it's been years since I was at the Zoo meself. Might see you there, eh? Not that I'll intrude, I don't 'old with bein' a pushin' friend. Have a good time.'

Lord, thought Maggie, I do have two men interested in me all of a sudden.

Sunday turned out lovely and sunny. The Zoo had the girls agog and capering about. Meg darted off. Maggie called after her.

‘Mum, it's the way to the lions over 'ere!'

‘We'll all go there together later, so come back 'ere.'

‘She'll get ate up,' said Daisy. ‘Lions eat people, don't they, mister?'

‘Only little fat shockers,' said Harry, ‘not little girls like you, Daisy, or bigger little girls like Lily, or growing-up ones like Trary and Meg.'

‘Nor mum?' asked Lily, in awe at the wonders of the Zoo.

‘I shouldn't think so,' said Harry. ‘Every lion knows that mums are far too valuable to be eaten.' Lily looked pleased and relieved about that. Meg came back. Maggie told her she wasn't to go off by herself, not in these crowds.

‘I know,' said Trary, ‘you hold on to Lily and Meg, Mr Bradshaw, and I'll hold on to Daisy. Then mum can have a day off worryin'. Come on, Daisy.' She took Daisy's hand. And she was very pleased when Lily and Meg happily placed themselves in Mr Bradshaw's charge. Their fingers clung around his. Maggie did not miss their willingness. Girls liked a father figure. She caught Trary's eye. Trary smiled.

‘I'm onto you, my girl,' she whispered, ‘but it won't make no difference.'

‘Don't know what you mean, Mum,' said Trary, who thought her mum had made herself look really nice for the outing in her one and only decent Sunday dress of light grey, even if her hat was a widow's black one. Maggie always felt a nice grey was becoming to a widow.

An elephant lumbered into view, the crowds parting to get out of its way. Daisy and Lily were both awe-struck. The elephant, guided by its keeper, was giving rides to children in a large basket on its back.

Lily, tightening her hold on Harry's left hand, gulped, ‘Is it a real one, mister?'

‘I should think so, Lily, it's plodding about and its trunk's movin'.'

‘No, is it really real?' asked Daisy.

‘Oh, yer soppy thing,' said Meg, ‘course it is, it wouldn't be movin' if it wasn't real.'

‘Yes, I s'pose if it wasn't real, it ‘ud fall over,' said Lily. The girls gazed up at the laughing children.

‘Yes, so it would,' said Harry. ‘Elephants that aren't real don't have any bones in their legs.'

The searching trunk hovered above Lily's boater as the elephant approached. Lily squealed.

‘Oh, crikey,' breathed Daisy.

‘March on, Napoleon,' said Harry to the placid beast, and it moved on, trunk wandering.

‘Oh, it 'eard yer, mister,' said Lily. ‘Yer saved me 'at bein' ate up.'

‘Mr Bradshaw's Trary's 'ero,' said Meg.

‘To me dyin' day,' said Trary, a picture in her blue frock, Sunday boater and black silk stockings. The stockings gleamed around her calves and ankles, and felt utter bliss to her, and excitingly posh. A boy stopped to give her the eye. Her nose went up in the air immediately.

They gazed at lanky, strutting ostriches. One was parading about free, but under the eye of a keeper.

‘What's it called?' asked Daisy.

‘Could be something like Lulu,' said Harry. Meg laughed and squeezed his hand. It affected him.

‘Daisy means what is it,' said Maggie.

‘Well, I bet it's not a canary,' said Lily.

‘It's an ostrich,' said Maggie, ‘they're all ostriches.'

‘I seen 'em in books,' said Daisy, ‘only I forgot the name. I'm always forgettin',' she said darkly to herself. ‘Oh, look,' she cried as they went on amid the crowds. ‘Mum, look. Monkeys!'

The monkey house was a fascination to the girls. Harry bought a bag of nuts and shared them out. Daisy and Lily yelped with delight at being able to feed the chimps. Lily asked to be lifted a bit. Harry lifted her. She stretched out a tentative hand and offered a nut. A quick paw took it from her, and the chimp's bright-eyed expression became a smile to Lily as its lips parted.

‘Look, it's smilin' at me. Trary, look, it's givin' me a smile. Mister, look, can you see?'

‘That's a smile all right,' said Harry, ‘and you know what it means, Lily, don't you? Love at first sight, that's what I reckon.'

‘Crikey,' said nine-year-old Lily, and offered another nut. Her new friend snatched it and made short work of it. Again its bright eyes gleamed and its teeth showed happily.

‘Ask 'im 'is name,' said Meg, ‘you want to know what to call 'im when he starts walkin' out with you.'

‘Soppy,' said Lily. The chimp leapt about. Lily, laughing, turned in Harry's arms and gave him a hug. ‘Oh, ain't it fun, mister?' she said.

‘Me, give me a lift,' begged Daisy, hand clutching nuts. Harry set Lily down and took the youngest girl up. Two chimps darted to perch themselves close.

‘Ain't our Daisy popular?' said Meg. ‘She's got two after 'er, an' before she's given them any nuts.'

Daisy offered one. It was grabbed. She offered another. The chimps chattered and gobbled. Meg threw a nut. A chimp leapt and caught it in the air. Daisy was laughing, giggling and quivering. They stayed a while, all the monkeys fascinating. Then they moved on. Meg slipped her hand back into Harry's, and Lily clung to his other. Maggie bit her lip. Girls liked a dad. Boys liked a mum.

They moved around the Zoo. They watched penguins, polar bears and two huge hippos. Then they found a seat to accommodate all of them and ate the sandwiches Maggie had made. Harry went and bought two bottles of lemonade, and they drank it out of a mug, passing it round and refilling it. The sun shone, the girls chattered. Trary thought it was just like a family outing, a full family outing, with Lily and Meg showing a nice fondness for Mr Bradshaw.

A strong and cheerful voice broke through the noise of the crowds. ‘Well, hello, hello, thought I might run across yer.'

They all looked up into the hugely benevolent smile of Mr Bates.

‘Oh, you've come too,' said Meg.

‘Picture postcard, that's what all you girlies make. How'd'yer do, Maggie. How'd'yer do, old man?' Mr Bates smiled at Harry. ‘So we meet, eh?'

‘So it seems,' said Harry, who knew Detective-Sergeant Chamberlain had had his doubts about Maggie's lodger. That was something that had disturbed Harry, but the man was in the clear now. And his air of genuine pleasure at seeing the family he lodged with couldn't be faulted. ‘Like some lemonade?'

‘Not goin' to rob you, wouldn't dream of it,' said Mr Bates handsomely. Oh, go away, thought Trary. Their lodger was larger than life sometimes. ‘No, yours truly don't intend to barge in. Maggie, you all look as if yer local constab'lary is takin' good care of you, which is the name of the game, as they say about a sudden strike of gold in Australia. I'll leave yer to yer Sunday out. Seen the kangaroos, 'ave yer, Daisy me pet?'

‘Oh, could we see some kangaroos, mister?' Daisy asked of Harry.

‘If they haven't all jumped out of sight,' said Harry.

Mr Bates laughed. ‘Good point, that, constable,' he said. ‘So long now, girlies, see yer later.' He went bouncily off, laughing.

They did some more strolling and looking, Lily and Meg again hand in hand with Harry, and Trary hanging on to Daisy, leaving Maggie as free as the air. They saw the lions and tigers, strongly caged. The lions lay crouched for the most part, tails lazily flapping, eyes gazing incuriously and with the undemanding mildness of animals that had just been fed. But they were in time to see the tigers receiving their ration of meat. There was growling, snarling and hissing as the big striped cats competed for the large red chunks.

‘Cor, I bet they'd eat anybody,' said Daisy, as huge teeth grated on bone.

‘Well, who they eatin' now?' asked Lily.

‘Where's Trary?' asked Harry. ‘Mother O'Riley, where is she?'

‘Oh, you silly, she's 'ere,' giggled Lily.

‘Oh, yes, so I am,' said Trary, hand in Daisy's. ‘What a relief.'

‘Yer 'aving us on, mister,' said Lily.

‘Still, I s'pose they're eatin' somebody,' said Meg.

‘Might be the Prime Minister,' said Harry.

‘Oh, we don't mind 'im bein' gobbled up,' said Meg. ‘And don't they gobble up ferocious, mister?'

‘Only way to eat a Prime Minister, I reckon,' said Harry.

‘Oh, yer fun,' said Meg, which was the prime compliment from an eleven-year-old girl to a grown-up. Trary's eyes danced. Maggie smiled wryly.

‘Would you like a pot of tea, Mrs Wilson?' asked Harry.