Missing Person (13 page)

Post-war poverty wasn’t quite as grim as pre-war poverty, perhaps, but there was still plenty of it about.

‘Oh, hello, Uncle Boots, what’re you doin’ ’ere?’

Boots turned his head. Cassie, carrying a shopping bag, was beside the car.

‘Where did you spring from?’ he asked, smiling.

‘Well, I live round ’ere,’ said Cassie, ‘don’t you know that?’

‘Yes, I know it, Cassie.’ Boots had a soft spot for the girl. ‘I suppose I’m playing truant from my office, and ought to be on my way. But come and sit with me for a couple of minutes.’

‘Crikey, love to,’ she said. Opening the passenger door, she slipped in beside him, her cotton frock pretty, her long black hair tied with a yellow ribbon. ‘Are you just sittin’ and thinkin’?’ she asked.

‘Well, yes, I was, Cassie. How’s the parrot?’

‘Well, he’s ever so healthy-lookin’, Uncle Boots. ‘Is feathers look lovely, but he’s still not a very good talker.’

‘Talking’s important, of course,’ said Boots.

‘Yes, I like talkin’ meself,’ said Cassie. ‘I don’t know why Freddy goes deaf sometimes when I’m bein’ important. I’m ’is girlfriend now, yer know.’

‘Well, that’s important,’ said Boots.

‘Yes, I expect Freddy’ll realize that when ’e’s a bit older,’ said Cassie, who had had a fairly hectic morning looking after Bubbles and Penny-Farving. ‘I’ve just been to the Maypole to get some groceries for me dad. Uncle Boots, would you like to come ’ome
with
me and see Cecil and ’ave a cup of tea?’

Boots smiled. He’d have liked two more children, a brother for Tim and a sister for Rosie. A girl like imaginative and ingenuous Cassie.

‘Thanks, Cassie, but I must get back to my office.’

‘Well, I could take you to see Mrs ’Arper’s parrot, if you like,’ said Cassie. ‘It’s only down there, near the house where you used to live, and she’s quite nice about lettin’ me see Percy. That’s ’er parrot’s name. He doesn’t half say funny things, like “Hello, sailor,” and “I’ll hit yer.” Fancy a parrot sayin’ that.’

‘Well, it’s a funny old world, Cassie,’ said Boots, ‘full of funny old people and funny old parrots. But I still don’t have time to see Mrs Harper’s. Never mind, I can at least drive you home.’

‘Crikey, ain’t you a sport, Uncle Boots?’

‘Sometimes, I hope,’ said Boots, and drove away. Going up King and Queen Street, he remembered his many ventures into the East Street market when he was young and Chinese Lady, always so busy herself, prevailed on him to do some bargain shopping for her.

Cassie interrupted his thoughts. ‘Oh, look, that’s ’er, Uncle Boots, that’s Mrs ’Arper, the lady with a talkin’ parrot.’

Boots saw the woman on the other side of the street, coming from the market. She was wearing a costume and a brown hat with two old-fashioned green feathers.

‘Well, she seems all right, even in a funny hat,’ he said, driving on. Arriving at Cassie’s home in Black-wood Street, he asked her how she was off for pocket money. Cassie said she was earning some this week by minding the children of a Mr Rogers in the mornings. But as she wouldn’t be paid till Saturday, she was sort of poor at the moment. So Boots gave her a shilling.
Cassie
, wide-eyed, asked what a whole shilling was for.

‘To help you feel a bit richer, Cassie, and for being you.’

‘Yes, I’m quite nice, ain’t I? I ’ope Freddy realizes it.’

‘He’s a lemon if he doesn’t,’ said Boots. ‘’Bye, Cassie.’

Cassie, watching him drive away, thought oh, lor’, I didn’t really thank him properly for the shilling.

Boots reported to Emily when he reached the offices.

‘Rachel’s goin’ to investigate Johnson’s?’ said Emily.

‘Just an idea of mine, Em.’

‘Why can’t you just have a talk with Sammy?’

‘Because at the moment, old girl, Sammy only wants to be told what he wants to hear. I need some information, the kind that’ll put his mind back on the straight and narrow.’

‘But suppose the information makes the sale look good?’ asked Emily.

‘Then I’ll have to rubbish it a bit,’ said Boots.

‘What?’ Emily looked shocked. ‘Boots, you wouldn’t, you’ve been honest all your life.’

‘Have I, Em? Who said?’

‘Well, I don’t count what you got up to in the Army and in the war. Boots, Chinese Lady would ’ave fifty fits if she thought you hadn’t been the soul of honour in any dealings with Sammy.’

‘Bless the old lady,’ said Boots, ‘who knows better than she does that there are always problems, and that most of us have to work our way around them?’

‘Don’t get clever,’ said Emily. ‘Did you enjoy your lunch with Rachel?’

‘Rachel’s always entertaining,’ said Boots.

‘Well, just remember one thing,’ said Emily, ‘it’s me you’re married to.’

‘Well, that’s the way I like it,’ said Boots, making a move.

‘Half a tick,’ said Emily, ‘I was just thinkin’.’

‘What about?’

‘You won’t want a big supper this evening, not after your lunch at Simpson’s, I bet,’ said Emily.

‘True,’ said Boots.

‘But tomorrow evening I could make a nice apple pie for afters,’ said Emily. ‘Apple pie’s your fav’rite.’

‘So are you, Em,’ said Boots, and laughed.

AS SOON AS
Dan was home from his work, Tilly came down to the kitchen.

‘How old are you?’ she demanded.

‘Come again?’ said Dan.

‘How old are you?’

‘Thirty-one,’ said Dan.

‘Then you should’ve grown up years ago,’ said Tilly, sumptuous figure vibrant with aggression. ‘You must’ve been retarded to take up with that dotty female on a flyin’ trapeze—’

‘Tightrope,’ said Dan.

‘And you must’ve been brain-damaged to ’ave children by ’er without marryin’ ’er. What a daft case of infantile delinquency. There’s twelve-year-old kids in Walworth that’ve got more sense. But just because that barmy woman landed you with them gels, don’t think you can land me with ’em every day. You get ’er home here.’

‘She’ll break the furniture up,’ said Dan. ‘Elvira’s a bit—’

‘Elvira my foot,’ said Tilly. ‘You get ’er home. Your gels ’ave got to ’ave a full-time mother. They gave Cassie the run-around this mornin’. When she took them to ’er home, they managed to knock ’er parrot and its cage off ’er kitchen table, and ’er cat nearly got the bird. Then when she took ’em down the market, they pinched three bananas off Ma Earnshaw’s stall,
Ma
Earnshaw with ’er eagle eyes and all. And this afternoon I’ve ’ad to ’ave them up with me to keep them out of the yard and rollin’ the dustbin about. Gels of four and five rollin’ a dustbin about, I never ’eard the like.’

‘They’re lively, I’ll say that much,’ said Dan, ‘but I can see I need to talk to them.’

‘I’ve ’eard you talkin’ to them,’ said Tilly, ‘like a soft cream doughnut. I’m sorry to say so, but they need a smack, and it’s you that’s got to do it.’

‘Smack me little angels?’

‘Yes, if you don’t want them to turn into little ’orrors permanent,’ said Tilly.

‘Ruddy elephants,’ said Dan, ‘can’t have that, can we? What’re they doin’ now?’

‘Nothing,’ said Tilly.

‘Nothing?’

‘They’re tied to the armchair,’ said Tilly.

‘Who tied them?’

‘I did,’ said Tilly. ‘Now, never mind about Gladys Hobday breakin’ up your furniture if you bring her home, because I’ll break it up meself if you take any more advantage of me good nature.’

‘Blimey,’ said Dan, ‘you’re a bit of a wild Hungarian yerself, Tilly.’

‘You barmy coot, will you stop talkin’ about Hungarians? Do like I said, go and yank the gels’ mother off ’er tightrope and bring ’er back ’ere, or I’ll go and find other lodgings.’

‘I hope you won’t, Tilly,’ said Dan, ‘you’re already like one of the fam’ly.’

‘Don’t make me fall about,’ said Tilly. What vexed her most about this cheerful Charlie was his failure to marry the girls’ mother and legitimize them. It was all very well to keep dark about not being married, but
that
skeleton in his cupboard would come to light one day. ‘Do yer duty by the gels. I’ll go up now and untie them, and it’s up to you to see that when they come down the stairs they don’t break their necks.’

‘Thanks, Tilly, anyway, for keepin’ an eye on them,’ said Dan. ‘Accept an appreciative little gift with me gratitude and compliments.’ He picked up a white paper bag from the table and handed it to her. Tilly, opening it, saw a box of chocolates. She put the bag back on the table at once.

‘Kind of you, I’m sure, Mr Rogers,’ she said, ‘but it’s bribery, and I ain’t that sort of lady, I don’t accept chocolate that’s meant to turn me into a nursemaid to your gels, thanks all the same.’

‘Believe me, Tilly—’

‘Nice try, Mr Rogers, but if you come up tomorrow mornin’ and ask me again to listen out for the gels, I’ll ’ave a try meself at throwin’ you down the stairs. Stop runnin’ away from your responsibilities.’

Dan ran a hand through his hair as she left the kitchen. What a woman. She was more Hungarian than Elvira. Elvira, with her temperament, was a danger to the furniture. Tilly was a danger to life and limb. That figure of hers, it must be full of coiled springs forever waiting to get sprung.

All the same, his grin arrived and spread.

Bubbles and Penny-Farving came down from Tilly’s upstairs back looking in need of a wash and brush-up to tell their dad that Tilly had tied them to a chair. Bubbles said it wasn’t very nice, and Penny-Farving said she supposed they’d been naughty.

‘And were you?’ asked Dan.

‘Dunno,’ said Penny-Farving.

‘I think the pair of you gave young Cassie a hard time this mornin’,’ said Dan. ‘I heard that for starters
you
knocked her parrot and cage off the table, and then helped yerselves to bananas from Ma Earnshaw’s stall. Why’d you do that?’

‘We wanted one each for us and one for Cassie,’ said Bubbles.

‘But you’ve both got pocket money, so why didn’t you pay for them, you monkeys?’

‘We forgot,’ said Bubbles.

‘Did Cassie make you take them back?’

‘Bubbles ate ’ers,’ said Penny-Farving, ‘and when we give one to Cassie, she ate it.’

‘She did, did she?’ said Dan.

‘So I ate mine,’ said Penny-Farving.

‘I’ve got an idea she didn’t know you hadn’t paid for them,’ said Dan.

‘Not till afterwards, when she asked,’ said Penny-Farving.

‘She made us go and pay for them then,’ said Bubbles. ‘Dad, they cost a penny each.’

‘Well, hard luck,’ said Dan, ‘and I’m goin’ to have to smack the pair of you.’

‘Crikey, you ain’t, Dad, are you?’ gasped Penny-Farving.

‘It’s got to be done,’ said Dan. ‘After supper.’

‘Where you goin’ to smack us?’ asked Bubbles.

‘On your bottoms.’

‘Oh, ’elp,’ said Bubbles.

‘I’m goin’ to sit on mine,’ said Penny-Farving.

Later, just as Dan was about to dish up the supper of fresh haddock, the front door knocker sounded. He answered it. Mrs Harper was on his doorstep.

‘Is this yours?’ she asked, showing him a dustbin lid.

‘I don’t know, Mrs Harper, is it?’

‘Yes, it is,’ she said. ‘I don’t know ’ow them little
terrors
of yours managed it, but they chucked it over the wall into me yard. ‘I’ve got to ask you, Mr Rogers, to stop ’em playin’ about out there. The noise they make goes right through me ’ead. Now take this lid back.’

Dan took it and Mrs Harper departed in a state of umbrage. Dan was forced to tell his young daughters that if they misbehaved themselves tomorrow at any time, he’d hand them over to a policeman.

Bubbles giggled.

‘Think it’s funny, do you, Bubbles?’ said Dan.

‘Yes, I like policemen,’ said Bubbles.

Somehow, she and Penny-Farving escaped smacked bottoms.

Tommy Adams was just thirty. His wife Vi would be thirty in August. They lived in a quite nice house in Grove Lane, Camberwell, with a small garden. Tommy had a mortgage on the property. There were two children, five-year-old Alice and three-year-old David. Tommy also had a car, supplied by the firm. He was up in the world, and so was Vi, which pleased her mum, known to her relatives as Aunt Victoria. Aunt Victoria had always thought Vi, her only child, had been born to be up in the world.

Tommy, arriving home from his work as manager of the garments factory belonging to Adams Fashions, tickled Alice, tickled David and kissed his wife. In Tommy’s opinion, Vi always deserved a kiss, being the most equable and easy-going wife a bloke could wish for. Wives like Vi never argued about the love, honour and obey bit. Lizzy, Emily and Susie, on the other hand, all thought it had been invented by some ancient archbishop whose wife left him to do his own cooking while she went off to do the dance of the seven
veils
in ancient Rome nightclubs. For her part, Vi thought Tommy easy-going himself and the most soft-hearted of Chinese Lady’s three sons. She had to remind him sometimes not to let Sammy take advantage of him. Tommy always said that when his kid brother was able to take any kind of advantage of him, he’d eat the mangle. But Sammy, of course, was always doing it by making Tommy do the work of two managers instead of employing an assistant.

‘Sammy been on the phone to you?’ asked Tommy.

‘No, should he ’ave been?’ said Vi.

‘Well, you’ve got some shares in the fam’ly scrap metal business,’ said Tommy, ‘and Sammy’s after sellin’ the company. If it comes off, it’ll mean four thousand quid for my shares and two thousand for yours. Six thou in all, Vi. We could buy one of those big ’ouses in South Norwood with an acre of garden, pay a gardener to do the hard work and a maid to look after the ’ousework. How about that for a posh leg-up?’

‘All that money?’ said Vi. ‘Tommy, I’d get a temp’rature. Besides, I don’t want any maid runnin’ my house. She’d get bossy and give the children looks every time they sat on a cushion. And I wouldn’t know how to give ’er the sack.’

‘Still,’ said Tommy, ‘six thousand smackers.’

‘It’s too much,’ said Vi, ‘it’s got to be a joke. We couldn’t handle money like that.’

‘I don’t know it would actually hurt,’ said Tommy, ‘and we could make a religious job of tryin’ to get used to it. Mind, it’s nowhere near settled yet. Sammy wants everything in writing, and when he’s satisfied with what’s on paper, we’ll all ’ave to attend a meetin’ in Sammy’s office and vote on it.’