Darkest Before Dawn (7 page)

Martha chuckled and handed Evie a small packet wrapped in greaseproof paper. ‘There's two jam sandwiches and a piece of fruitcake,' she told her daughter. ‘But you could always come home, you know. Your school isn't far off.'

‘I know, only most people take their dinner with them,' Evie explained. ‘Can't stop, gorra run.' She shot out of the back door and thundered down the rickety iron staircase, then turned to hurry along the pavement towards the court, where Annie lived. As she had expected, her friend was already waiting for her, accompanied by her older brother, Gareth, and his friend Percy Baldwin. Gareth and Percy had acquired a bundle of rags tied together with string, which they were kicking from one to the other, and took no notice of Evie, so she and Annie fell into step as they made their way along the pavement. Presently, the two small girls were joined by others and they turned into the schoolyard, making their way towards the hopscotch squares and discussing who would have first go.

The game proved to be an exciting one and when the bell went there was a concerted moan from the players. Evie, however, did not repine. She was quick and neat at all games and usually won, and anyway the match would continue in their dinner break. She linked arms with Annie and the two strolled across the playground to where the children were lining up into classes. Evie and Annie took their places, Evie reflecting how strange it seemed to have all girls in her class, for in the small village schools in which she had formerly been a pupil there had been too few children to segregate the sexes, so boys and girls had been taught together. Indeed, many of those schools had had only two classrooms, one occupied by the five- to nine-year-olds and the other by the ten to fourteens.

The bell rang again and the children began to file into their classrooms. Annie and Evie sat at a double desk at the back, alongside another desk at which sat Millie and Sandra. The four girls often played together and now Millie leaned over as the teacher began to take the register and whispered into Evie's ear. ‘I heared something about your dad the other day . . . well, I heared something if he's the feller what Bister had took on at Payton and Bister's biggest warehouse.'

‘Oh?' Evie said, only vaguely interested. Her father spoke very little about his work but she had taken his carry-out down to the warehouse one morning and had envied him working amongst all the lovely smells, especially when he had explained how he had to plot to fill every inch of available space. Evie liked doing jigsaws and her father had made her several quite difficult ones. Evie, looking at the warehouse, had remarked that it was like a gigantic jigsaw and she thought her father had a most exciting job which must be fun as well. Now, however, she remembered belatedly that Millie had asked her a question. ‘Sorry, what did you say?'

‘I asked if your dad were the head warehouseman at Payton and Bister,' Millie said patiently. ‘If he is, two of the fellers were talking about him. I heared them, so I did.'

‘Oh,' Evie said again. ‘Yes, me dad does work for Payton and Bister. What did you hear, then?'

‘Well, the lads were saying that their dads were going to play a trick on him, like. I dunno why, but some of 'em miss the feller what were there before your dad took over.'

‘What sort of trick?' Evie enquired, immediately alert. She knew that the men had played at least one trick on her father already because it had made him laugh when he had told the story to his family.

They had filled a sandwich with Lux soap flakes, as well as cheese, and offered it to him, hoping to see him foaming at the mouth. ‘Beware of the Greeks when they coming bearing gifts,' her father had remarked, sagely, and had then explained the quotation to his small daughter. He had guessed, of course, that the sandwich had been doctored and had pretended to accept it, turning his back on the giver for a moment whilst rooting in his own sandwich box. ‘I'm very fond of a cheese sarnie,' he had said jovially, ‘but you must have one of mine in exchange. No, no, I insist.' He had handed the cheese and soap flake sandwich back to the man and had stood over him, saying gently: ‘Now don't rush off until you've told me whether you like the little addition, because Mrs Todd always puts just a tad of mustard into my butties. C'mon, man, what do you think?' Evie had enjoyed the joke hugely when her father told her how the trickster had been forced to munch down a large mouthful of cheese and soap flakes and how it had been he, and not her pa, who had foamed at the mouth. Indeed, the man, Jacob Tilling, had enjoyed the joke too, if not the sandwich, and had become her father's champion, saying that someone who not only took a trick in good part but could turn it against the trickster was the sort of feller he most admired.

So now, Evie waited eagerly for the answer. If it was the kind of prank which would amuse her father she would say nothing, because it would be a sort of cheating, but if it was an unkind or spiteful trick she would tell her father.

Millie, however, was unable to help her on this score. ‘I dunno. You'd have to ask Gareth Butcher or Percy Baldwin,' she explained. ‘They didn't seem to know theirselves
what
was up, just that something was.'

Evie was opening her mouth to reply when the teacher's voice was raised. ‘Get out your arithmetic books please, girls. Mabel, you are blackboard monitor this week, I believe. Kindly clean the board for me and then I want someone with really neat handwriting to chalk today's date along the top of the board.' A forest of hands immediately shot up into the air and the teacher smiled. ‘Ah, but which of you knows today's date?' Half a dozen of the hands lowered themselves into their owners' laps, but the rest continued to wave vigorously. ‘Very well . . . Sandra Higgins, come up to the front, please.'

That night, as the family sat round the table playing a game of cards before going to bed, Evie mentioned what Millie had told her. She saw that her mother looked a little anxious and Angie rather annoyed, but Seraphina merely smiled and their father did likewise.

‘They'll settle down and decide they're being foolish,' he said tolerantly. ‘They've tried any number of tricks – or they did at first – but most of them seem to be toeing the line now. In fact, the only one who isn't is Reg Baldwin. He's a difficult nut to crack but he must know I'm getting near the end of my tether so far as his behaviour is concerned. He is a lazy b—blighter, too fond of tucking himself away behind a couple of tea chests while everyone else is working. I suspect he has a crafty fag, so, since smoking is strictly forbidden, the first time I catch him having a puff he'll be out on his ear. I've warned him twice, but there won't be a third time.'

Martha had been staring down at the cards in her hand but at her husband's words she glanced up, a crease appearing between her brows. ‘You mean you caught him smoking in a warehouse and didn't sack him on the spot?' she asked incredulously. ‘Harry, my love, I know how generous you are . . . but was that wise?'

Harry chuckled. ‘No, no, you misunderstand me,' he assured her. ‘I've never caught him doing anything apart from skiving, but the last time I did so I thought I could smell tobacco – burning tobacco, I mean. Luckily, though, I can move about quiet as a mouse when I want to, and next time Mr Baldwin goes missing he's going to find an unexpected – and unwanted – companion joining him in his latest hidey-hole. Most of the men are of my mind, because the less work Baldwin does the more they get landed with, so I dare say someone will tip me the wink if I'm too busy to notice that Baldwin's gone sneaking off again.'

‘Oh, I see,' his wife said. But when the card party broke up and she was supervising Evie's preparations for bed, she surprised her daughter by questioning her closely as to who had been talking about her father.

‘It were Percy Baldwin and Gareth Butcher,' Evie said. ‘Oh, Mam, I do believe that Percy's dad works at Payton and Bister. Of course, that must be how he knows what's going on; Percy must be Reg Baldwin's son.'

Her mother's eyebrows rose and the crease reappeared between them, then the frown disappeared and she patted Evie's nightgowned behind. ‘Hop into bed, love,' she commanded. ‘I don't suppose there's any harm in the tricks the fellers in the warehouse play on your dad, but I don't like the sound of Mr Baldwin. What's his son like?'

Evie sat up and considered the question thoughtfully. ‘I think I feel rather sorry for him,' she said slowly. ‘I've seen him with a bruised face and skinned knees, and he isn't very bright so he's often in trouble at school; that's what Annie's brother says, at any rate, an' he should know since they live in the same court and usually walk to and from school together.'

‘Poor lad,' her mother murmured. She moved around the girls' room, tidying automatically. ‘Well, if you hear anything more, my love, I think you'd best tell either myself or your father, because from the sound of it Mr Baldwin is a violent man and I don't want to see your father hurt.'

Evie agreed fervently that she did not want to see her father hurt either and would do her best to discover what was afoot. Then her mother left the room and Evie cuddled down in bed, heaving the blankets up over her shoulders, for it would soon be October, and the nights were already growing cool. She decided that she would ingratiate herself with poor Percy Baldwin. He was always hungry, so she would beg an extra sandwich in her carry-out and offer it to him. If she did this two or three days running, she thought it would then be safe to enquire, in a jokey manner, just what his father was planning to do at the warehouse. If she played her cards right, pretending to look up to him, letting him win if they played any sort of game on their way to and from school, then she saw no reason why he should not confide in her.

Satisfied that her plan would work, Evie let her thoughts begin to drift and was soon fast asleep.

Chapter Three

Evie began to make a pal of Percy Baldwin the very next day. When the children met outside the court in which the Butchers lived, Percy was sporting a black eye, purple in the middle and rainbow-hued round the edge. It was natural, therefore, for Evie to enquire how he had got such a shiner. Percy might have replied that he had walked into a door or simply passed the question off with a flippant answer, but instead he said bitterly: ‘Me bleedin' dad did it, that's what. He got hold of me mam by the hair and he were thumpin' an' kickin' her, so I went for him, and so did me brother, Ron, though he's only six. He chucked Ron right across the kitchen an' he punched me straight in the eye. Me dad's strong an' me mum ain't.'

‘That's awful,' Evie said, genuinely shocked. She knew that violence occurred in most walks of life, but punching a boy of twelve and beating a defenceless woman was outside her experience. ‘Was he drunk?' she asked timidly. ‘Me dad's always going on about the evils of drink and I remember him saying that Stobo – he's a barge master – were meek as a lamb until the drink were in him and then his cabin were like a Punch and Judy show wi' Stobo beltin' his old woman an' Mrs Stobo beltin' 'im back. So I suppose it were the drink with your dad, eh?'

Percy nodded unhappily, falling into step beside her whilst Gareth and Annie, and a couple of others, went on ahead. ‘Yes, I reckon the drink always makes him worse,' he admitted. ‘But he's a bad-tempered old bugger, mean as they come, even when there's no drink in him.'

At this point, Evie pulled the greaseproof packet of sandwiches out of her satchel, peeled off the top two and held one out to Percy. She had planned to do this, but in fact it was a spontaneous gesture she would have made anyway, so sorry for Percy did she feel. It occurred to her for the first time that, despite the fact that he was two years older than she, they were the same height and build and she guessed that his father probably drank the money which should have been spent on food for his family. Percy stared at the sandwich, his eyes glistening. ‘I reckon you didn't have time for no breakfast this morning,' Evie said. Then, as Percy still hesitated, ‘Go on, take it. Me mam knows I gets peckish on me way to school so she usually puts in one or two extra.'

‘Well, thanks very much,' Percy said. He took the sandwich and demolished it in three extremely large bites. Evie, who was about to attack the other sandwich, hesitated. She had had a large plateful of porridge and two rounds of toast at breakfast and was not really at all hungry. She waited until Percy had swallowed the last crumb, then pushed the second sandwich into his hand. She remembered how her mother had said that one must always give as though there were no merit in the giving, because the person to whom you gave might feel embarrassed by their need. But it ain't as though we're grown-ups, Evie told herself. Kids aren't ashamed of being hungry, they're just hungry. ‘I had porridge for me brekker this morning,' she said rather gruffly. ‘Where's Ron? Why ain't he coming to school wi' us?'

Percy finished the second sandwich more slowly and answered her question through a rather full mouth. ‘Ron? Oh, he's still at the hospital. I telled you me dad chucked him across the room . . . well, he bashed his head on the edge of the door and Mam called Mr Briggs next door round and he punched me dad and knocked him out, and then Mam took Ron to the hospital. When she come back, she said Ron were okay but very shook up, so the hospital would be keepin' him in for a day or two.'

‘What did the doctors and nurses say when your mam told them your dad had thrown him across the room?' Evie asked curiously as they approached the school gates. ‘I bet they were furious, weren't they?'

Percy gave her a tolerant glance. ‘Wharrever makes you think me mam 'ud be such a fool as to tell 'em the truth?' he asked derisively. ‘Cor, there'd be endless trouble if she did any such thing. We don't want the scuffers round our house, nor we don't want to see Ron and little Emmy – she's only two – taken into one of them children's homes. The scuffers can do that, you know, if they think a feller might kill a kid when he's too drunk to know what he's doin'.'