Missing Person (36 page)

‘No go, Tilly?’ he said.

‘Do me a favour, would you?’ said Tilly. ‘Close the door nice and quiet when you leave.’

‘Wait a bit,’ said Dan, ‘I thought you were lookin’ for someone like Gus.’

‘I was, I am,’ said Tilly, ‘but not ’im and ’is mother both.’

‘Come again?’ said Dan.

‘I don’t know how it’s escaped your notice, seein’ you work every day with ’im,’ said Tilly, ‘but ’is dear old mother is the reason why he’s not married, nor ever likely to be. But if he ever is, by some wondrous reason, ’is would-be wife will ’ave to marry ’is mother as well.’

Dan laughed his head off. Tilly wasn’t impressed.

‘Think it’s funny, do yer, Dan Rogers?’ she said.

‘Not half,’ said Dan. ‘Oh, blimey, marry his mother as well? You’re killing me, Tilly.’

‘Oh, I am, am I? Well, try this at yer funeral!’ Her egg saucepan came flying at him. It hit the door. Dan bolted for his life. He knew what was good for him. Plain honest cowardice.

It was twilight and Boots was out in the garden, watering the sweet peas he and Edwin always liked to grow. The blooms could be prolific, and Emily and Chinese Lady delighted in having vases of them around the house.

Rosie came out.

‘Pot of tea’s nearly ready,’ she said.

‘Count me in,’ said Boots.

‘Daddy, that parrot’s a lark.’

‘Is it?’

‘You spoofer, you know it is. And did you also know it can say “Heil Hitler”?’

‘I did think your grandma could teach it to say “Rule, Britannia” instead.’

‘Daddy, where did you get it from?’

‘D’you really want to know?’

‘Yes, of course I do.’

‘I acquired it,’ said Boots, ‘from the house we raided. I thought we could improve its manners.’

‘I bet,’ said Rosie. ‘Daddy, you’re ever so deep sometimes. Hitler’s that peculiar German character whose followers say “Heil Hitler” to him.’

‘Well, what I’d like and what you’d like, poppet, is for Percy to say “Rule, Britannia” to him. Wouldn’t we?’

‘Is Hitler dangerous?’ asked Rosie.

‘Let’s say he’d be a lot safer if he were locked up,’ said Boots. ‘On the other hand, you and I know someone who’s more than a match for him.’

‘Who?’ asked Rosie.

‘Your grandma,’ said Boots.

Rosie laughed and cuddled his arm, and they entered the house together.

MRS BROOKS, IN
taking charge of the welfare of Bubbles and Penny-Farving, enabled Dan to go off to his daily work in a whistling mood, and allowed Tilly to attend to her dressmaking orders without worrying. She was also able to get out in the afternoons and go down the market. She liked the East Street market with its boisterous cockney atmosphere, where stallholders quickly became your friends, even if you still had to watch that some of them didn’t slip a bit of a dud apple in with a pound. The market, generally, enriched cockney spirits. Everyone knew it didn’t hurt the pocket as much as shops with marble counters or stores with posh-looking floorwalkers.

But for all that she didn’t have to worry any more about Bubbles and Penny-Farving, Tilly found she couldn’t stop herself looking in on them from time to time, just to see how they were getting on in the care of Mrs Brooks. The motherly lady’s understanding of how to deal with high-spirited children was such that little accidents and alarming moments were becoming a thing of the past.

I’ve done Dan Rogers a really good turn in bringing Mrs Brooks to look after his girls, thought Tilly. Next time he offers me a box of chocolates, I might accept.

Boots and Rachel enjoyed another companionable lunch in the plush surroundings of the Trocadero,
which
provided an almost perfect background to Rachel’s lush beauty and colourful hat. Boots commented on her eye-catching appearance, and Rachel said she was glad he’d noticed. She had never had any difficulty in communicating easily with all the members of the Adams family, particularly with Sammy of the electric blue eyes, and in a special way with Boots, whom she saw as the very personable elder of the tribe.

Happily, she imparted to him that which she had referred to as very interesting information, which so tickled Boots that he asked her if she’d like to share a second bottle of wine with him.

‘Love to, my dear, but I daren’t, unless you offer to drive me back home,’ she said. ‘Too much wine goes to my head, and I don’t want to get arrested for dancing the Charleston in Piccadilly Circus.’

‘Of course I’ll drive you home,’ smiled Boots.

‘And I’ll be able to trust you on the way?’

‘Give you my word,’ said Boots.

‘One must put up with some disappointments,’ said Rachel. ‘Order the wine, lovey.’

They shared it very enjoyably. Rachel asked if the shareholders’ meeting had been called yet.

‘Yes, for next Tuesday evening in the offices,’ said Boots.

‘Will you pass this information to Sammy before the meeting?’

‘I think it would have more effect if I presented it to everyone at the same time, during the meeting,’ said Boots.

‘Well, lovey, it’s been a pleasure gathering it for you, with the help of Eli Greenberg,’ said Rachel.

‘What, in return, can I do for you?’ asked Boots. ‘Lunch isn’t much of a reward.’

‘My life, there’s a sweetie, ain’t you?’ said Rachel. ‘How many shares do you have in Adams Enterprises?’

‘Two-fifty,’ said Boots.

‘Sell me fifty, ducky, and get me elected to the board.’

‘I’ll consider that,’ said Boots.

‘Seriously?’

‘Is that what you’d seriously like?’

‘Yes,’ said Rachel.

‘Have some more wine,’ said Boots.

With Sammy plotting a fairly honest campaign which, he hoped, would ensure a smooth and relatively uncontentious sale of the scrap metal business, and with Boots keeping some very interesting information close to his chest, confiding it only to Emily, Chinese Lady took it upon herself to pay Sammy a call. Cornering him in his office, she let him know she was generally disapproving of all this money-making. Sammy pointed out he hadn’t made it yet, and in return Chinese Lady pointed out she didn’t like being contradicted, specially not by her youngest son. There’s enough money as it is to go round for everyone, she said, and I don’t like anyone getting covetous for more, so that they can hoard it like a miser. Sammy assured her he wasn’t going to hoard it, he was going to spend it. Not all at once, but gradually, while keeping enough in his wallet – well, his bank – to look after any unexpected family overheads. Sammy, you’re going to get addicted to money if you keep on like this, said Chinese Lady. Well, I’ve got to be honest, Ma, said Sammy, I started life addicted. Yes, but there was no need to make a bad habit of it, said Chinese Lady. If you’ve got a
business
, it’s best to keep it, she said. We’ve got three businesses, Ma, three companies, said Sammy. I don’t know why you’re so argufying, said Chinese Lady. Just remember that I’m not going to stand for any of Susie’s family being put out of work, not when they’re as good as part of our own family. I’ll see to it, said Sammy. You’d better, my lad, said Chinese Lady.

By Friday, more than a week after Mrs Brooks had become Dan’s daily help, Tilly was suffering dissatisfaction with what was going on. Actually, nothing at all was going on as far as she was concerned, for her pleasant and creative routine was free of all interruptions. So it was sickening to realize the lack of any little incidents was the cause of her dissatisfaction.

I must be barmy, she said to herself. I’ll go out to a tea dance one day at that hall in Brixton. Yes, one Saturday afternoon, when there might be a spare bloke that’s just waiting to catch sight of me in me best dance frock, the short one with a fringed hem. I wouldn’t mind a spare bloke interrupting some of me evenings or Sundays.

She had to admit Mrs Brooks kept the girls behaving themselves. On the other hand, she’d found out that the motherly lady used the constant threat of a policeman to sober them up. Once or twice was all right, but not all the time. Or so Tilly thought. It occurred to her that she wasn’t displeased at finding what could be called a chink in the lady’s armour. Well, it would be a chink if Dan Rogers didn’t like his girls being kept under that kind of threat.

But no, she couldn’t tell him. She’d never been a telltale, and why should she tell on Mrs Brooks of all people? She was a friend, and Tilly had recommended
her
herself. So why was she a bit pleased at finding the lady wasn’t perfect?

The light suddenly dawned for Tilly.

‘You called me, Tilly?’ Dan was home from his work, and with Mrs Brooks having left for her own home, he was up on the landing in response to a verbal summons from Tilly.

‘Come in, me door’s ajar,’ she said, and Dan entered. He blinked pleasurably, for Tilly was adjusting the top of her left stocking. She was seated on the arm of her fireside chair and wearing a shimmering silky creation with a fringed hem. Gladdening, that is, thought Dan. Tilly, having teased his appreciative eyes, said, ‘I didn’t know you was goin’ to come in as quick as that, and anyway, you should ’ave knocked first.’

‘Lucky for me I didn’t,’ said Dan, grinning.

‘What d’you mean, lucky?’ said Tilly. ‘It’s not lucky to embarrass a respectable lady, it’s downright indecent. Were you lookin’ through the keyhole?’

‘Me?’ said Dan.

‘Don’t come the old acid,’ said Tilly. ‘Were you or wasn’t you?’

‘Well, I won’t say I wouldn’t’ve been tempted, if I’d known what the magic lantern slide was showin’.’

‘What a piece of impudence,’ said Tilly.

‘Can I help bein’ admirin’ of your legs?’ said Dan. ‘And your dress? Blimey, you’re a charmer, you are, Tilly.’

‘This dress is just an old thing that I’ve just put on to see if it’s ’ad its day,’ said Tilly. ‘D’you think it’s got too short?’

‘Well, if it was twelve inches shorter, it ’ud be a knockout,’ said Dan.

‘’Ow disgustin’,’ said Tilly, ‘I’ll start lookin’ for me egg saucepan in a minute. Anyway, how’s them gels of yours?’

‘Fine,’ said Dan, ‘and might I say you look the same?’

‘Is that a compliment?’ asked Tilly.

‘It’s meant to be,’ said Dan.

‘I thought you liked fat women,’ said Tilly.

‘I don’t dislike ’em,’ said Dan, ‘they’re sort of jolly.’

‘I didn’t notice Gladys Hobday was a laugh a minute.’

‘Well, as a circus performer, she takes herself very serious.’

‘You still in love with her?’

‘Hardly,’ said Dan.

‘What d’you mean, hardly?’

‘I’ve gone off her,’ said Dan.

‘All the same, something’s still got to be done about givin’ your gels a proper mother. Mrs Brooks is bein’ useful, but it’s not enough. You’ve got to get married.’

‘Tilly, I told you, Elvira said a great big “no” in capital letters.’

‘Never mind that,’ said Tilly, ‘leave it to me. I’ll arrange something.’

‘Will you?’ said Dan.

‘Yes, I’ve been thinkin’ about it,’ said Tilly. ‘Meet me outside the town ’all on your way ’ome from work tomorrow. You leave your work at ’alf-past-twelve, don’t you? Well, you could be at the town ’all by a quarter to one. Meet me then.’

‘Blimey Bill,’ said Dan, ‘are you goin’ to get Gladys Hobday there?’

‘Just meet me,’ said Tilly. ‘You can tell Mrs Brooks you might be a bit late gettin’ in. She won’t mind.’

‘Listen—’

‘That’s all, Dan Rogers. Them gels are callin’ you.’

Dan arrived at the Southwark town hall in the Walworth Road just before fifteen minutes to one the following day, Saturday. Tilly was waiting for him, looking modestly fetching in a linen dress and a nice hat.

‘Now what?’ said Dan. ‘Where’s Elvira?’

‘We don’t need ’er,’ said Tilly, ‘we’re goin’ in to see the registrar or ’is clerk, and arrange for him to marry us as soon as possible. Someone’s got to make sure Bubbles and Penny-Farvin’ have married parents, and that someone’s me. Otherwise you’ll just carry on as if everything in the garden’s lovely. Once we’re married we’ll see what we can do about gettin’ over the problem of the gels bein’ born out of wedlock, like findin’ someone in the East End who can supply us with birth certificates for them, even if they cost you a quid apiece. Birth certificates showin’ you and me as their parents.’

‘Could you say all that again?’ asked Dan, looking as if her egg saucepan had caught him a wallop.

‘I could, but I ain’t goin’ to,’ said Tilly. ‘You need me, Dan Rogers, and so do your little angels.’

‘I won’t say I don’t,’ said Dan, ‘but you sure you know what you’re doin’?’

‘Yes,’ said Tilly. ‘We all ought to do one good deed in our lifetimes.’

‘You’ve thought serious about what you’re takin’ on?’ said Dan.

‘I’m takin’ on two little gels that need a proper mother, and a bloke who needs a decent wife,’ said Tilly. ‘And if you turn out to be a decent ’usband, you might get to see me in tights and spangles.’

Dan laughed.

‘Well, I fancy you, Tilly Thomas, and that’s a fact,’
he
said. ‘This way.’ He took her arm and led her into the town hall in manly fashion, which was only right and proper, and saved Tilly having to knock him out and drag him in.

Saturday high tea, always a favourite with Chinese Lady and her family, was over. Boots, looking casual in his weekend cricket shirt and grey flannels, answered a ring on the doorbell.

‘Good evening, sir,’ said the caller, a tall slim boy nicely dressed and devoid of pimples, ‘are you Mr Adams?’

‘By the grace of God or the imps of perdition, yes, I am,’ said Boots. ‘My parents also had something to do with it.’

‘Oh, well put, sir,’ said the boy. ‘I’m the first son of my own parents, I’m Peter Clark. I’m in my last year at West Square School and a friend of your daughter Rosie, who’s at the girls’ school, and a ripper, sir. But she said she won’t allow me to take her out unless I first called to introduce myself to her mother and father. I think I’ve got to have your approval. I’m just turned sixteen and can honestly say I don’t have a police record.’

Boots let a smile show, a smile more resigned than whimsical. He saw this boy as the first inevitable step towards losing Rosie, a lovely and endearing girl, whom he had always regarded as particularly his own. But nothing was unchanging, nothing ever stood still, apart from entrenched affections. In a few years, Rosie would be a young woman, looking outward, not inward, and thinking, as all young people did in time, of a life of her own, a home of her own, and a family of her own. He and Emily could not keep her for ever, any more than they could keep Tim.