Missing Person (34 page)

‘Christ,’ said Dan, ‘what happened, and where are the girls?’

‘They’re alive, I can tell you that,’ said Tilly. ‘They could have gassed themselves, but thank goodness they had the sense to come up and tell me about the smell. When I came down the smell was sick-makin’, so I opened doors and windows after turnin’ the tap off.’ Tilly went on to say she’d settled Bubbles and Penny-Farving at her table with their paints, that a little later on she tied them to their chairs while she popped out for five minutes just to see for herself how Alice Higgins’s fractured foot was. It was bad news. The fracture was having to be re-set, and Alice was in a state about it, waiting for the ambulance to come and take her to the hospital. So what was Mr Dan Rogers going to do about things now?

‘I’m too upset just this minute to think about anything except me girls nearly gassin’ themselves,’ said Dan. ‘I’ve got to go up and see ’em.’

‘Not yet,’ said Tilly, putting herself in his way. ‘First you’ve got to think serious about gettin’ some kind woman to look after them all day, a woman who’s brought up kids ’erself and could do with the money you’ll pay ’er – oh, yer swine!’

Tilly gasped. Dan had put his hands on her waist and bodily lifted her out of his way. He plonked her down, and out of the kitchen he went to run up the stairs. Tilly could hardly believe it. Handsome of figure and not a skinny line anywhere, she’d been lifted like a baby. For a moment she thought of going after him with his own frying-pan. Then she mentally gave him his due for acting like a man at last, and for showing so much concern over his girls. She went up after him with no thought of knocking his head off for manhandling her. He had the girls up in his arms,
cradling
them and kissing their noses and talking to them. Tilly credited him then with the virtue of being a caring and loving dad, even if he had been daft enough to become infatuated with a woman who thought more of her circus life than she did of her little daughters. For the first time Tilly thought what man would be fool enough to marry a woman like that when she’d never make the slightest attempt to be a mother to her children? Dan Rogers might, for the sake of his girls. I suppose he should, thought Tilly, the daft idiot is still infatuated enough to make Gladys Hobday his lawful wedded wife.

Dan took the girls down to the kitchen, made a pot of tea, gave them a cup each with a slice of shop cake, told them to sit there and not move from the table, then went upstairs to talk to Tilly again. He said that after he’d given the girls their supper, he’d do the rounds of the neighbourhood, calling on people he knew to find out if some homely mother whose kids were grown up would take on the full-time job of looking after Bubbles and Penny Farving while he was out at work. That is, if Tilly would keep an eye on them while he was doing the rounds.

‘I’ll do it for you,’ said Tilly.

‘What, knock on doors and talk to the women?’ said Dan.

‘You stay with them gels,’ said Tilly, ‘they like ’aving you with them of an evening when you’ve been workin’ all day. Talk to them about not doin’ things that could be fatal, and be serious. Don’t talk to them with that grin of yours all over yer face. Bein’ the right kind of dad ’as got to ’ave its serious side. I’ve ’eard you tryin’ to be strict with them, and the way you do it only makes them giggle. Never mind about Gladys Hobday for the time bein’, your important job is to
make
sure your gels obey you, then when you do ’ave to leave them I won’t ’ave to worry about them givin’ me ’eart attacks.’

‘I’ve got sense enough to know you’re givin’ me good advice, Tilly.’

‘Well, that’s something,’ said Tilly, ‘and I’ll forget the way you laid yer mitts on me and chucked me about. Pity you didn’t do a bit of that with your circus freak. A woman might not like bein’ manhandled, but it tells ’er the bloke who’s doin’ it is a man and not a wet weekend. I fitted the gels with their first new frocks this afternoon, and I’ll now be able to ’ave them finished by tomorrow. It’ll cost you five bob.’

‘For two new frocks? Is that all?’ asked Dan.

‘Cash on deliv’ry,’ said Tilly, ‘and then I’ll start their second ones.’

‘Where’s their first ones?’ asked Dan, and Tilly showed him. Both dresses were short, both blue with daisy patterns. Dan thought them delicious. Tilly said the girls would need nice new socks, and some new vests, and that she’d get them for him, if he liked. Dan said he’d be very obliged, that it was ruddy good of her, and he couldn’t think why he’d been lucky enough to get a lodger like her. She didn’t go to pubs and get drunk, nor carry on with dubious characters. Well, as far as he knew she didn’t.

‘I should say not,’ said Tilly, ‘what d’you think I am? I was engaged once to a very respectable bloke, and I’d be a very respectable married woman by now if I ’adn’t changed me mind.’

‘Sorry about that,’ said Dan, ‘I expect you had a good reason. Still, a fine-lookin’ woman like you, Tilly, shouldn’t ’ave to wait long to find someone else.’

‘Don’t know someone tall, dark and ’andsome, I
suppose
, do you?’ said Tilly with a bit of a larky smile.

‘Well, actu’lly, yes, I do,’ said Dan. ‘One of the mechanics at the works. Gus Bradley. I’ll invite him along one evenin’ and get him to meet you. He’s a bachelor and might just be lookin’ for someone like you, Tilly. Well, you’ve got a warm heart and a womanly figure and then there’s yer fine limbs—’

‘Watch it,’ said Tilly, ‘it still ’urts me integrity to know you caught me only ’alf-dressed, and if you keep remindin’ me of it, Dan Rogers, I’ll wreck your hooter. You sure this tall, dark and ’andsome Gus Bradley is a bachelor?’

‘I’m sure all right,’ said Dan, ‘he’s my chief mechanic and I know him well.’

‘What’s wrong with him, then, if he’s still a bachelor?’ asked Tilly.

‘I ain’t cognisant with what’s wrong with him,’ said Dan, ‘he seems all right to me and he’s a sound motor mechanic. Like me to invite him here one evenin’?’

‘Look,’ said Tilly, ‘I don’t feel I’m all that ’ard-up, I don’t feel I need people to bring blokes along for me to inspect.’

‘No, of course not, Tilly, it’s your say-so,’ said Dan.

‘Still, all right,’ said Tilly, ‘I’ll ’ave a look at this Gus Bradley.’

‘I’ll see if he can come tomorrow evenin’,’ said Dan.

‘Wait a minute,’ said Tilly, suddenly feeling irked, ‘you in a hurry to get rid of me?’

‘Blimey O’Reilly,’ said Dan, ‘anybody who wanted to get rid of you in a hurry would need his best friend to hit him with a hammer. Straight up, Tilly, ain’t you as good as me best friend yerself?’

‘Strike a light,’ said Tilly, ‘ain’t you kind and ain’t I honoured? Fancy me bein’ as good as the best friend of Gladys Hobday’s Man Friday. I don’t know ’ow
you
can still be in love with a fat selfish woman like ’er.’

‘I’ve never thought she was fat,’ said Dan.

‘No, well, I suppose ’er spangles and tights blinded you,’ said Tilly.

‘Hope I’ll get a reply to my letter,’ said Dan.

‘You’re off yer silly chump, wantin’ to marry that kind of woman,’ said Tilly.

‘But you keep sayin—’

‘I know what I’ve kept sayin’. I know it’s for the sake of them gels, but any man wantin’ to marry Gladys Hobday ’as to be right off ’is rocker.’

‘It’s only—’

‘Push off,’ said Tilly. ‘I’ve got me supper to get before I go out and try to find a good woman for you.’

‘Well, look, take this,’ said Dan, and gave her a ten-bob note. ‘That’ll pay for the first new dresses and leave enough to buy new socks and vests, and thanks for bein’ so warm-hearted, Tilly, bless yer.’

‘You’re makin’ a weak woman of me, you are, Dan Rogers,’ said Tilly.

SAMMY, HOME FROM
the office, spent a rib-tickling time with his young son and infant daughter before interfering with Susie in her kitchen.

‘If I have an accident with this saucepan, Sammy Adams, there’ll be ructions you’ve never dreamed of.’

‘Susie, I’m only makin’ known to you me pleasure in comin’ home to me fam’ly,’ said Sammy. ‘Believe me, with your dad-in-law back in the bosom of his own fam’ly, the whole day’s been highly pleasurable. I’ve been able to concentrate me brainbox on me business, particularly concernin’ the future prospects of your dad and Freddy.’

‘You mean if the scrap metal business is sold, you’ll still keep the one yard?’

‘Well now, Susie—’

‘You’re up to something I’m not goin’ to agree with,’ said Susie.

‘Susie, would I?’

‘Yes, every time you start off saying well now, Susie, you’re up to something fishy.’

‘Might I inform you that as a highly reputable businessman, I’ve never shaken ’ands with anything fishy? That sort of thing gets around, Susie. Now, while I’m not in a position to promise all the yards won’t be sold, I am in a position to say I’m workin’ on a speculative proposition that will look after Jim and Freddy, and your brother Will too.’

‘What’s a speculative proposition if it’s not fishy?’ asked Susie, straining fresh garden peas, cooked to shining greenness, through her colander.

‘It’s a proposition I’m workin’ on, Susie, along with gettin’ Johnson’s to dot some more eyes and cross some more tees.’

‘I want to know more about it than that,’ said Susie.

‘Well, of course you do, Susie, you bein’ my legal spouse and with shares in the business. Just let me get everything tied up first, then I’ll guarantee you’ll recommend me for me first knight’ood.’

‘Your first? Sammy, you can’t have two knighthoods.’ Susie buttered the hot, new potatoes she’d tipped into a tureen. ‘One’s your lot, if you ever get near it.’

‘That a fact, Susie? I was thinkin’ I could award me second one to you. I like the sound of Sir Susie Adams.’

‘Sit the children up, Sammy, and stop playin’ about in your fairyland,’ said Susie.

‘Still, it’s been a happy day, Susie,’ said Sammy, tucking little Bess into her high chair.

‘Yes, I told my hero so,’ said Susie.

‘You did what?’

‘I phoned Boots at the office. He said hello, Susie, and I said hello, me ’andsome ’ero, thanks ever so much for rescuin’ me one and only dad-in-law.’

Sammy grinned at young Daniel.

‘Don’t mind your mum, Daniel, she’s had a long day,’ he said.

Supper at the house in Red Post Hill came to the dining-room table from the kitchen via the hatch. For five years Chinese Lady and her husband had lived here with Boots and his family, and she still didn’t like to mention dining-room to old friends whom she occasionally visited in Walworth. She was sure that
only
people who were stuck-up talked about dining-rooms. Often enough all meals were taken in her kitchen, but now and again she would get it into her head that as her husband was a gentleman, only the dining-room was suitable if she’d cooked a roast, say, or expensive pork chops with apple sauce. It was pork chops this evening.

With everyone seated and served, the supper began, and so did Chinese Lady’s dialogue with Boots, who’d noted the covered birdcage was on the sideboard.

‘I don’t think I’ve seen much of you today, Boots,’ she said.

‘Sorry about your hard luck, old lady,’ said Boots, ‘but I think you were making beds and dusting ornaments when I finally got down to the kitchen this morning.’

‘Yes, I made a note that you slipped off before I could talk to you about one or two things.’

‘Nana, isn’t he a perisher sometimes?’ said Rosie. ‘He’s always slipping off whenever I want to talk to him myself, about me having a dress allowance.’

‘That’s funny,’ said Tim, ‘I was goin’ to ask him the other day about me havin’ my own cricket bat, only he wasn’t where I’d seen him.’

‘He saw you comin’, Tim,’ said Emily. ‘He does that to me sometimes.’

‘If someone wants a dress allowance, and someone else wants a cricket bat, and someone like my better half wants me to mend a chair leg,’ said Boots, ‘I’m available for interviews by appointment.’

‘Oh, we’ll all queue up,’ said Emily.

‘I’m available myself if Boots is called away,’ said Mr Finch, whose return had been accepted without fuss. If Emily and Chinese Lady thought there were loose ends that needed tying up, they hadn’t said so.
Emily
had gone along with Boots’s suggestion to let the matter rest, and Mr Finch had managed to blind Chinese Lady with science. ‘In other words,’ said Mr Finch, ‘I’ll stand helpfully in for Boots.’

‘I was speakin’ about Boots slippin’ off this mornin’,’ said Chinese Lady, ‘I wasn’t askin’ for a lot of unsensible remarks.’

‘Oh, sorry, Nana, carry on,’ said Rosie.

‘I won’t refer to one of the things I had on my mind,’ said Chinese Lady. That, of course, was on account of young Tim being present. The boy had been kept ignorant of the traumatic family dilemma. ‘I just want to speak about that parrot you brought home as a present for me, Boots.’

‘Don’t mention it,’ said Boots. ‘Cassie’s very fond of her bird, old lady, and I hope you’ll get very fond of yours. It’ll keep you company when we’re all out. Why’s it in here, by the way, and covered up?’

‘You might well ask,’ said Chinese Lady.

‘Yes, Daddy, not half you might,’ said Rosie.

‘It’s not fit to inhabit my kitchen,’ said Chinese Lady. ‘I don’t know where you bought it, Boots, but it’s a vulgar disgrace.’

‘Well, poor old Percy,’ said Boots, helping himself to more apple sauce. ‘Has he said something he shouldn’t?’

‘Well might you ask,’ said Emily.

‘What I want to know is who’s been learnin’ it vulgarities?’ said Chinese Lady.

‘Good question, Maisie,’ said Mr Finch.

‘I think everyone’s looking at me,’ said Boots.

‘Well, everyone knows what you’re capable of,’ said Chinese Lady. ‘Even your children blush for you at times.’

‘Me?’ said Tim, appalled. Only girls blushed.

‘I’m not children, Nana,’ said Rosie. ‘Mind, I do still blush for Daddy. He’s wicked sometimes.’

‘Yes, I expect he learned that parrot how to talk vulgar,’ said Emily.

‘Well, if I’m goin’ to keep it, he’d better unlearn it, and quick,’ said Chinese Lady.

‘I could say I’m innocent,’ said Boots, ‘but all right, let’s hear the bird. Take the hood off, Tim.’