The Street (4 page)

Tilly led the way into the room’s grimy interior. A few sticks of ancient, battered furniture were pushed against the walls. A fiddle-backed chair that once might have belonged to a nice set now had stuffing leaking from a corner. A wardrobe that had only one door of its pair remaining had been shoved aside to allow an iron bedstead to dominate the centre space. Beneath its springs, resting on bare boards, was an additional flock mattress. A square table with a dirty, fissured top took up the rest of the wall space.

‘Let’s see the other,’ Bert muttered in a resigned tone.

They trooped in single file into the back room. Again the man’s eyes pounced at once on the sleeping quarters: a double bed with a smaller mattress pushed underneath. ‘Big enough for the four old’uns, I suppose.’ He came back into the front room and looked at the hob grate powdered with grey ash. ‘Where’s the water?’ He swung his eyes to and fro.

‘Didn’t you see the sink on the landing? You’ve got to share with other people.’ Tilly could tell he was bitterly disappointed at the accommodation. ‘That’s why it’s cheap,’ she said with a sympathetic grimace. ‘Got another of Mr Keane’s houses up the better end o’ the road. But that’d cost more. Got a ground floor front and back. It’s a bit bigger and better furniture and a few sheets ‘n’ blankets to go with it. I could do that at seven bob fer the week . . .’

‘Nah!’ Bert harshly interrupted, shaking his head and slipping a sideways glance to his wife, for she had sunk to sit on the bed edge. ‘This’ll do. It’ll have to do.’ He shifted the baby in his arms, still rocking it to and fro although it had quietened.

‘One thing I won’t do is get meself in trouble with me guvnor,’ Tilly said firmly. ‘I collect his rent and I ain’t losing me job. So you’ve gotta pay me what’s due when it’s due or it’s trouble for everyone. That clear?’

Bert nodded and cast a wary eye at the war-like woman confronting him. He reckoned she looked like that Boadicea in a chariot who’d fought the Romans. He remembered his oldest, Danny, had brought home a book when he’d been learning about history at school. Tilly had leaned forward slightly, fists on hips, whilst awaiting his agreement. ‘Bring the stuff up,’ Bert ordered one of his sons who’d been hovering by the open door. The youth stared sulkily at his father before turning about and doing as he was told.

Bert put the baby down on the bed next to Margaret. ‘I’m off to try ‘n’ find some work,’ he said bluntly. ‘I’ll take a job clearin’ pots in a pub if it comes to it.’

‘That’s what it always comes to,’ his wife muttered acidly at his back as he limped out of the room.

‘You want any work, duck?’ Tilly settled herself on the bed next to Margaret Lovat. ‘Might be able to help, y’know.’

‘What’s goin’?’ The woman raised her eyes and pushed a stand of lank brown hair behind her ears.

‘Might be able to find you something this afternoon if you like. It’s graft but better’n nothing if you need a few bob urgent.’

‘Washing?’ the woman guessed with a dead-eyed look.

Tilly nodded. ‘Me sister Fran’s work but she ain’t fit and her client wants this back by seven tonight. Well-to-do lady she is, out Tufnell Park. Might lead somewhere.’

Margaret Lovat turned a jaundiced eye on Tilly. ‘You reckon I’m daft enough to believe I’ve got a chance of taking yer sister’s best touch?’

Tilly crossed her arms and gave Margaret a keener appraisal. So she wasn’t the mouse she’d seemed. She’d come back with that quick enough. ‘Take it or leave it.’ Tilly stood up. ‘No skin off my nose either way. Ain’t my client.’

‘I’ll do it.’

‘Come next door when yer ready. I’ll show you what’s gotta be done.’

Margaret Lovat followed her to the door. ‘Where’s the privy?’

‘Out back. Go down the stairs and do a left till you come to a door; that’ll take you out to the courtyard.’ She made to go then hesitated and said with a hint of apology, ‘I’ll prepare you fer the state of it. It’s full of Mr Brown. I’ve been on at Mr Keane fer weeks to get a plumber to fix it.’ She nodded to the landing. ‘There’s the sink. Shared with a couple called Johnson. You won’t have no trouble off them. He’s got reg’lar work on the dust and she hardly comes out the room. Got bad arthritis,’ she added by way of explanation. ‘Back slip room’s just been took by a single lady. Don’t see nuthin’ of her. Think she’s a waitress up west and that’s why she comes in all hours of the night.’ Tilly raised her eyebrows at Margaret in a way that fully exhibited her suspicions.

‘How nice,’ Margaret sighed with weary sarcasm. ‘Stuck between a totter and a prossy.’

‘She’s a looker too, is Miss Kerr, so keep an eye on yer old man.’ Tilly issued the warning with a grin.

‘Ain’t worried about him!’ Margaret snorted derisively. ‘She’s welcome to him. Give me a break at least.’

‘Yeah . . . I noticed he don’t hang about,’ Tilly said, amused. ‘Not much of a gap between your two youngest, I’d say.’

‘Thirteen months,’ Margaret sighed. ‘Little Lizzie’s just three months. I’m bleedin’ knackered, I can tell yer.’

The two women exchanged a look of cautious camaraderie.

‘It’s me eldest, Danny, I’m thinkin’ of. He’s fifteen next birthday ‘n’ comin’ of age, alright. The boy’s always got his hand stuck down the front of his trousers.’

Tilly cackled a laugh. ‘I noticed he’s a strapping lad.’

‘He is,’ Margaret said, her face softening with pride. ‘Nothing like his old man. Takes after my side. Me dad was six foot and built like a brick shit house. Danny’s bright too and was doing well in school till . . .’ She shrugged and turned away.

‘All gone sour for yers in Essex?’

‘Yeah . . . won’t be going back there no more.’

Tilly looked at Margaret’s averted face and felt sorry for the woman. Obviously there was a tale of woe to be told. But then everyone in Campbell Road had one of those. Tilly felt sorry for every poor sod that turned up in The Bunk looking for somewhere cheap to stay and a job of sorts to keep the kids fed. Sympathy was of no bloody use when what was needed was hard cash and a bit of luck for a change.

‘Yeah . . . well . . . anythin’ else you need to know, I’m just next door.’ She wiped her hands on her pinafore. ‘See yer downstairs in a bit, alright?’

‘Gonna let me in, then?’ Tilly asked impatiently as her sister simply gazed at her. She’d come to tell Fran she’d found someone to take on her washing.

Slowly Fran stood aside and Tilly swept in. Fran’s bruises had almost disappeared, but a sallow colouring around her eyes and jaw was a reminder of the beating she’d taken. Her arms were healing more slowly and the muscles were still stiff and sore from being brutally treated.

‘What you looking so shifty about?’ Tilly asked bluntly.

Fran simply shrugged.

‘A new family’s moving in next door. They’ve not got a pot ter piss in. The woman wants work urgent so she’s doing your washing. We’ll get it finished and back to Tufnell in plenty of time.’

Fran gave a weak smile and muttered her thanks.

Tilly sensed something was not right and then her nose told her what it was. ‘He’s been in ’ere, ain’t he?’ she accused, taking another sniff. ‘I can smell bacca.’

‘Don’t go mad, Til,’ Fran started to wheedle but was soon interrupted.

‘Yeah, don’t go mad, Til,’ Jimmy Wild echoed, emerging from the back slip room where he’d been hiding himself. He walked closer and slung an arm about his wife’s frail shoulders. ‘We’ve made up, ain’t we, gel? I’m back home where I should be with me family.’

‘He’s said he’s sorry and he won’t do it no more. The kids need their dad.’ Fran was unable to meet Tilly’s eyes and stared at the floor.

‘You fuckin’ idiot,’ Tilly exploded. ‘How many times have you heard him say sorry ‘n’ it won’t happen again?’

Fran narrowed her eyes on her sister. ‘I can’t manage on me own. I got kids and debts.’

‘Yeah, ‘n’ he’s gonna add to them for you,’ Tilly said on a harsh laugh. ‘Just like before.’

She gave her brother-in-law a hate-filled look. He winked back, making her fight down her need to pounce on him and punch the smirk from his face.

Jack Keiver was just at that moment on his way up the stairs. Seeing the door open to his sister-in-law’s room he poked his head in to say hello. The greeting died on his lips. The scene in front of him made him hasten further into the room. He drew Tilly’s arm through his in an act of restraint and solidarity. He’d immediately guessed what had gone on. His brother-in-law had managed to squirm his way back home with lies and promises.

‘Come on, Til, leave it. We’ve been through all this before. Let ’em stew. It’s their business.’

For a moment Tilly stood undecided before allowing her husband to lead her to the door. Jack was right, but still she felt betrayed and angered by her sister’s weakness. She felt now more inclined to shake her than punch him.

Jack turned and looked at Jimmy. He raised a threatening finger. ‘We ain’t finished. I ain’t forgot you tried to take a swing at my missus. And all on account of some poxy brass.’

‘I was wrong.’ Jimmy gestured an apology with his flat palms. ‘I swear on the Holy Bible it won’t happen no more. All in the past, mate. I’m back and it’s gonna be alright this time.’

‘Yeah, ’course it is,’ Jack muttered sarcastically as he led Tilly out.

‘What d’you think of that Danny?’ Sophy asked Alice as they made their meandering way back home from the shop. They’d bought a penn’orth of liquorice and sucked on it while talking. Bethany put up a hand and Sophy obligingly wound a black string onto her palm. Their young sister then skipped happily in front of them, head back and the liquorice dangling between her lips.

‘Who?’ Alice asked with a frown.

Sophy tutted and her eyes soared skyward. ‘The new family what turned up yesterday. The biggest boy’s name’s Danny. He kept lookin’ at me. I think he fancies me.’

‘You think all the boys fancy you,’ Alice chortled.

‘Look!’ Sophy hissed and nudged Alice in the ribs. ‘Here he comes now with his brother! I bet they’ve been following us.’

Alice gave her elder sister a look. Sophy’s cheeks were turning pink and she was scraping her fingers through her brown hair to tidy it. In Alice’s estimation the new boys were probably just off to the shop. She decided not to dampen Sophy’s excitement with that opinion.

The Lovat boys made to walk past without a word and with barely a sullen look slanting from beneath their dark brows at the Keiver girls. Alice sensed her sister’s disappointment at their indifference and bit her lip to suppress a smile.

Alice’s mild amusement stoked Sophy’s indignation. She swung herself into the boys’ path and adopted a belligerent stance she’d seen her mum use, with hands plonked on her thin hips and chin jutting forward. ‘Why’ve you come all this way from Essex? You lot in trouble?’

‘What’s it ter you?’ the boy called Danny snarled and aggressively looked her up and down.

‘We don’t want no scumbags living next door,’ Sophy told him, her lip curling ferociously.

‘Nah . . . by all accounts you’ve got ‘’em livin’ in the same house,’ Danny let fly back, making his brother Geoff guffaw.

Sophy turned crimson. She’d not meant to start a proper argument with him. All she’d wanted was for him to stop and say a few words, but now she’d started this ruckus she couldn’t back down. ‘You wanna watch what you’re saying. Me dad’ll have you.’

‘Yeah . . . and I’ll have him back,’ Danny said. ‘We ain’t scared of nobody, you remember it.’

Alice, who had up till now been watching and listening, decided to give her sister some support. ‘You ain’t scared ’cos you ain’t been here long enough,’ she piped up. ‘Wait till you meet the other boys; they’ll beat you both up, you give ’em lip.’

‘Yeah.’ Sophy nodded. ‘Wait till you meet a few of ’em. Robertson brothers wot live across the road’ll thrash you good ‘n’ proper. Let’s see how big yer mouth is then.’

Danny hooted and began to act palsied. ‘Look! I’m shakin’ in me boots.’

‘You will be!’ Sophy answered but she was already edging away, aware that no gains were to be made.

The Lovat boys began to shift too. One last challenging stare over their shoulders and they were carrying on towards the shop.

Sophy stared boldly after them. ‘Knew I wouldn’t like ’em soon as I saw ’em,’ she announced loud enough for them to hear.

‘Don’t think they’re bothered whether we like ’em or not,’ Alice muttered. ‘Don’t think they like us either.’

‘Good!’ Sophy flounced about. Grabbing Bethany’s hand she yanked on it and they headed off home.

They were close to the junction with Paddington Street when Alice spotted Sarah Whitton outside her house with one of her older sisters. Louisa Whitton looked to be in a fine temper and Sarah was scooting backwards away from her, obviously to escape a whack. Louisa was a hefty, sweaty girl of about eighteen, not too bright and known to use brawn rather than brain. All of a sudden she lunged at Sarah and swiped her across the face, making her young sister howl and rub frantically at a scarlet cheek.

‘Wonder what’s goin’ on?’ Sophy murmured to Alice. Her features had transformed from moodiness, brought on by the confrontation with the Lovats, to anticipation. Family fights in the street were a common occurrence in Campbell Road and provided a bit of light relief for people living with the monotony of poverty.

‘Come on, let’s go ‘n’ see,’ Sophy urged. They started to walk faster, Bethany lagging behind. As they got closer they could hear Louisa’s raucous accusations as she stalked her sister with her fists at the ready.

‘Thievin’ li’l bitch! Give it me back or I’ll lay you out, right here ‘‘n’ now.’

‘Ain’t got it . . . ain’t got it, I tell yer. Let me go in . . . Mum’ll tell you, I ain’t got no money.’

‘What’s up?’ Alice called and ran closer to her friend. She liked Sarah and felt concerned on her behalf. She also wanted to help if she could. A worm of guilt was already squirming unpleasantly in her belly as an idea of what might be wrong entered her mind.

‘Keep yer nose out,’ Louisa bawled at her and wagged a threatening finger. She came close enough for it to land and shove against Alice’s nose. ‘You Keivers need ter mind yer own.’

‘You don’t want to let me mum hear you say that,’ Sophy piped up then piped down as Louisa shot her a pugnacious look.

‘Give me the money you got fer it, you li’l cow.’ Louisa advanced again on her snivelling sister.

‘What’s she on about?’ Alice demanded of her friend as Sarah cuffed snot from her top lip.

‘She reckons I took her new blouse down the secondhand shop in the Land. I never did, I swear.’

‘You lyin’ mare. If you didn’t who did, then? ’Cos I just been down Queensland Road ‘n’ saw it in the winder and that’s where I just got it from. Solly said he remembers a girl about your age took it in. Cost me two ‘n’ six to buy back me own soddin’ blouse. And he wanted more for it!’

Alice suddenly went very pale and very quiet. She looked at Sophy to see that her sister seemed to be engrossed in this spectacle. So were various other people who had lazily propped themselves against doorjambs or railings to watch what was going on.

‘Go on . . . give her another dig,’ one of the boys from Sophy’s class at school called out mischievously.

‘I’ll give
you
a dig you don’t shut up, Herbert Banks,’ Alice yelled angrily at him.

‘One more chance then I’m gonna really set about yer,’ Louisa warned.

‘Mum!’ Sarah wailed in anguish. But everyone, even Sarah, knew that help from that quarter was very unlikely. Ginny Whitton’s
nerves
kept her prostrate on her bed for hours on end with just a bottle of gin for company. At this time of the afternoon it was unlikely she could hear much at all through her booze-induced meditation.

‘I’ll get your two ‘n’ six,’ Alice blurted and rushed forward to step between the two sisters.

‘What’s it to you?’ Louisa dropped her hand and stared at Alice.

‘Nuthin’ . . . she’s me friend. I’ll get your money. Just leave her alone.’ Alice felt one of her sister’s hands gripping her elbow and Sophy tried to yank her away.

‘You ain’t got half a crown,’ Sophy hissed. ‘Now she’s gonna lamp you instead, stupid.’

‘Shut up,’ Alice muttered and, shaking off her sister’s fingers, she turned and sprinted for home.

‘None of our business.’ Tilly cut Alice short as her daughter neared the end of her breathless tale of woe.

‘But it is, Mum. Sarah’s gonna get a hiding and it was me took that blouse in to Solly’s place for you and we only got one and six for it.’

‘Yeah, and it was Ginny Whitton give it to me in the first place to sell for her. If Louisa’s got a beef it’s with her mother, not with us.’

‘Will you come and tell her that? She’s waiting for half a crown.’

Tilly transferred baby Lucy from one hip to the other and sipped from a cup of lukewarm tea. She was drinking it in the hope it might take the whiff of whiskey from her breath before Jack got home. ‘I got things to do,’ she answered irritably. ‘Besides, I got enough o’ me own wars to sort out without gettin’ involved in the Whittons’ dingdongs.’ Inwardly Tilly was still brooding on her sister’s monstrous stupidity in letting Jimmy come back.

Since marrying Jimmy Wild it seemed that the pretty, confident young woman Fran had once been had all but disappeared. It infuriated Tilly to know the pig had such power over her sister that he’d started to alter her character. Yet she blamed Fran too for allowing him to return again and again to crush her more firmly beneath his boot.

‘Can I have half a crown then to get Louisa off Sarah’s back?’ Alice pleaded. ‘It ain’t fair. She ain’t done nuthin’.’

Tilly choked on her tea. ‘Get out of here before I land you one, you little tyke!’ she shrieked. ‘Give yer half a crown, indeed. If I had half a bleedin’ crown I’d be down the shop with it and get something fer yer teas tonight.’

Alice knew she was wasting her time. She’d thought straight off that her mum had been drinking from the way she was a bit unsteady on her feet. Now she knew for sure. She was obviously in a bad mood; if she’d had half a crown she’d be down the Duke with it, not down the shop buying bread and jam.

‘Louisa said us Keivers ought to mind our own,’ was Alice’s final tactic in trying to rouse her mum’s temper into action.

But Tilly was sunk in her own thoughts. One day she’d have that bastard Jimmy, she promised herself. She’d have him locked up so he’d never hurt Fran or her kids again.

Alice slipped out of the door and met her mother’s nemesis on the lower landing.

‘Alright, Al?’ Jimmy greeted her with his soppy, wonky smile.

Alice nodded but her eyes were bright with unshed tears.

Jimmy blocked her way. ‘Woss up, little ’un?’ he crooned.

‘Need half a crown urgent,’ Alice blurted. ‘Mum won’t give it me.’

‘Half a crown, eh?’ Jimmy fished in a pocket and produced a silver coin. ‘There yer go,’ he said, handing it over with a flourish.

Alice raised a wondrous, grateful smile to her uncle’s face. Half a crown was not easily come by. It had taken her two months to save that from her doorsteps and now she regretted spending it on going to the flicks and chips on the way home just last week. She’d treated Sarah too as she never had more than a few coppers to call her own despite doing odd jobs most evenings. She’d heard her dad say it was bloody astonishing that Ginny Whitton could recover well enough to wrestle away her daughters’ wages before she suffered a relapse.

‘I’ll give it you back, promise,’ Alice gasped at her uncle then fled with the coin clutched tightly in her hand.

Jimmy watched her go with a crafty smile on his face. He then raised his eyes to the landing above. He was just biding his time with that mouthy bitch . . . just biding his time . . .

Having hared back along the road as fast as she could, Alice soon saw that she might be too late. A fight was still going on but now it was between Louisa Whitton and her sister Sophy. Louisa had hold of Sophy’s hair and was dragging her along by it. Sophy was screeching and trotting to keep up as Louisa sadistically speeded up her pace. Their sister Bethany was standing on her own, grizzling, her chin on her chest. From the sidelines came various raucous suggestions as to how Sophy ought to retaliate.

‘I told you to keep your nose out of me business. If yer sister don’t get back here with me money you get the hidin’ instead.’