The Bells of Bow (11 page)

‘And were they?’

‘You ain’t kidding. He made a right fuss of ’em, even give ’em a few bob extra to get ’emselves a couple o’ drinks on him.’

‘Why was they in such a hurry?’

‘They didn’t wanna wait till they was called up and then have to wind up going in with people they didn’t know. Least this way they’ll be together, Tiddler said.’

Babs puffed out her cheeks and sighed. ‘Well, this is gonna be a fair old Saturday night out, innit? Tiddler and old Dick’ll be the only fellers left in the whole of London soon. Aw, mustn’t forget that spotty little Herbert they’ve got down in despatch now, must we. He might start seeming a bit better looking if we get really desperate.’

Another clap of thunder boomed above them. Babs shook her head and gazed out from the shop doorway at the crowd of people who had just spilled out of Mile End Station and were now staring disbelievingly at the pouring rain. She turned to Lou and laughed weakly. ‘So, yer telling me I’ve got all cased up in me best gear, got soaking wet, and all to come and see you? I could have waited till Monday morning and seen yer at work.’

‘It ain’t all bad news, Babs.’

Babs didn’t look convinced.

‘Me brother Bob’s mate Ernie, and some bloke called Sid, another pal of his, they’re gonna meet us instead. Down the Aunt Sally for a drink.’

‘Yeah?’ Babs sounded sceptical.

‘I know Bob can be a bit unreliable sometimes, but I threatened him, and from what he said, they sound all right. They’re sailors, he reckons.’

Babs linked her arm through Lou’s and grinned. ‘Well, I ain’t never kissed a sailor before. Meant to be good luck, innit?’

Lou grinned back. ‘Well let’s get going or we’ll never find out, will we?’

They hurried along Burdett Road, jostling each other for space under Lou’s umbrella. They had almost got to where they had to cross the road to get to the pub when Babs pulled Lou to a sudden halt. She had stopped by a crowd of people grouped round a newspaper stand selling the late evening editions.

‘Any news yet?’ Babs asked, standing on tiptoe and peering over a man’s shoulder trying to get a look at the headlines on the billboard.

‘Blimey, Babs, yer as bad as me bleed’n dad,’ complained Lou.

Babs ignored her but Lou was determined, dragging Babs reluctantly away. ‘Look, there’s still a chance that this war might not even happen,’ she said with a shrug. ‘Let’s forget all about it, eh? Just for tonight anyway.’

Babs pointed across the street to where two blue-uniformed sailors stood in the pub doorway. ‘Don’t think there’s much chance of that,’ she laughed. ‘Not with the navy buying our port and lemons.’

‘Ship ahoy!’ giggled Lou in reply and they both dashed across Burdett Road to the shelter of the Aunt Sally.

‘So which one o’ you fellers is which?’ Lou asked as she shook the rain from her umbrella. ‘I’m Lou, Bob’s sister.’

‘I’m Ernie,’ said one of them.

‘Right,’ said Lou, taking his arm. ‘You’re mine.’

‘And I’m Sid,’ said the other man. He seemed delighted at the way things had turned out.

‘And let me guess what you do for a living.’ Babs grinned at Sid and touched his collar for luck.

‘Ne’mind what I do, you just tell me all about yerself, darling.’ Sid pushed open the pub door to let her inside. He followed her in, not thinking about Lou and Ernie behind them.

‘Oi!’ A voice shouted from behind the bar. ‘Ain’t you heard of the blackout, moosh? Get that door closed.’

Sid didn’t flinch at the reprimand, he hardly even heard it; he was too busy trying to believe his luck. His own eyes were out on stalks as he watched all the heads turn to gaze at Babs as she walked over to a table in the corner of the crowded bar. The best part was that he’d turned up at the last minute only as a favour to a mate, with no idea what sort of a girl he’d be meeting, and he’d wound up landing himself a real, genuine beauty. He pulled out a chair for Babs and said, ‘They say yer get paid back if yer do someone a favour.’

‘Do what?’

Sid didn’t have the opportunity to explain. Lou and Ernie had joined them at the table and Ernie seemed as impressed as Sid by Babs’s looks.

‘Can I get you a drink?’ he asked, staring at Babs.

‘Port and lemon, eh, Lou?’

‘Lovely.’ Lou sounded fed up as she plonked down in the seat next to Babs, while Ernie went up to the bar.

Sid pulled a chair from another table and squeezed it in between the two girls.

‘I dunno, Babs,’ Lou said, glaring at Sid. ‘I might as well not be around whenever you or Evie are about.’

‘Who’s Evie?’ he asked.

‘Her twin,’ said Lou with a resigned sigh.

‘Not identical?’

‘Yeah.’ Lou folded her arms.

‘Blimey!’ Sid stood up to take the tray of drinks from Ernie. He jerked his head towards Babs. ‘She’s only got a twin, Ern.’

Babs squirmed and flashed a warning look at Lou not to start. In defiance, Lou picked up her glass and tried to down her drink in one long swallow, almost choking herself in the attempt.

‘I think we might wanna go to the you-know-where, don’t you, Lou?’ Babs hissed at her friend and, reaching across the bedazzled Sid, she dragged Lou up from her seat.

In the privacy of the Ladies, the girls had a little chat: Babs told Lou to grow up and Lou told Babs to stop showing off. Then they both sulked and then they both laughed, at themselves and at each other, and finally went back to the table whispering happily. And once they had all had a few more drinks, the girls and their sailors settled down and seemed to be getting on fine with one another.

Sid chatted away to Babs about all his hopes and fears and ambitions and sounded genuinely interested when he asked her what she wanted to do with her life.

As for Ernie, he was more than a little impressed, not to say surprised, when he found out that Lou wasn’t only a keen but a formidably knowledgeable Arsenal fan. ‘A pretty red-headed girl with gorgeous freckles and a brain and all,’ he said in awe as she discussed in detail the triumphs and tragedies of the Gunners’ previous season. ‘And not one single word about no rotten war.’

All too soon for the four of them, last orders were called and they had to leave the comforting fug of the bar. As they stepped outside, the effects of the blackout hit them like a solid barrier of darkness.

‘Bloody hell.’ After two attempts, Sid slipped his arm round Babs’s shoulder. ‘I ain’t never seen nothing as dark as this.’

‘Least that rain’s stopped,’ Ernie said happily and wrapped his arm protectively round Lou.

‘I was gonna say yer could leave us up the corner, but I think I’ve changed me mind,’ whispered Lou, cuddling up to Ernie.

‘I wouldn’t leave you in the dark, darling.’ Ernie bent his head and pecked Lou gently on the cheek.

‘I’m going to Eric Street, and Babs wants Darnfield Street, if that’s all right with you boys.’ Lou breathed the words, hardly making a sound. ‘But I don’t know why I’m whispering.’ She burst into a fit of loud joyful laughter, brought on by a combination of one too many port and lemons, the feeling of Ernie’s muscular arm wrapped round her and the added spice of fear of the unfamiliarly intense darkness.

‘Eric Street’ll do me and all, ta, Sid.’ Babs said it a bit more briskly than she’d intended.

‘But I don’t mind.’

‘No.’ She said it firmly, shaking her head in the dark. ‘I’m staying there the night.’ The thought of the possibility of turning up at number six and her dad being the worse for wear after a night in the Drum made her determined, no matter how dark it was, that Sid wouldn’t take her anywhere near her street door.

‘News to me,’ Lou said. ‘But yer welcome.’

‘Here,’ Sid sounded suspicious. ‘You ain’t married, are yer, Babs?’

‘No I bloody ain’t!’

Lou sniggered in the darkness.

‘Yer might have been.’ Sid now sounded sulky.

‘Well, I ain’t.’ Babs fiddled around in her handbag. ‘I’ve got a torch in here somewhere.’ She jabbed it towards Sid. ‘And no, me husband didn’t buy it for me. I got it meself, down the Lane.’

Sid took the torch and shone the pale beam at their feet as the four of them walked along Burdett Road in the direction of Mile End Station. Their footsteps striking the flagstoned pavement sounded strange, too loud, in the blackness; in fact all the sounds around them were more intense, stronger, sharper than they ever remembered them being. Every few yards they would hear a yell from somewhere close by, either a curse or a warning as someone misjudged their step or bumped into what, in normal times, would have been a perfectly familiar lamp post but in the blackout had became a phantom street robber or even a murderer lurking in wait.

Lou screamed as the torch suddenly went out. The four of them stopped dead. Ernie bashed into Sid, nearly knocking him over.

‘I was sure them batteries was all right,’ Babs said apologetically.

‘They are,’ said Sid, and before she or Lou knew what was happening, the girls were standing in adjoining shop doorways having their chance to find out if kissing a sailor really did bring good luck.

‘Sid. Sid.’ Ernie tapped his friend on the arm. ‘We’ll have to be getting back or we’ll be in right bother.’

Sid gave Babs a last, lingering kiss. ‘Come on then,’ he said reluctantly. ‘I suppose we don’t wanna get chucked out before we’ve even been to sea.’

They walked the last fifty yards to Eric Street in silence, each with their own thoughts about what had happened that evening and each with their own ideas about what was likely to happen to them in the future. Not one of them was yet out of their teens but they all felt they were growing up fast.

‘This is me,’ sighed Lou and they stopped outside a narrow, terraced house.

‘And me.’ Babs didn’t have the chance to say any more. Sid had already pressed his lips against hers. ‘All right, Jack Tar,’ she said, shoving him away good-naturedly. ‘Mind how yer go.’

After several more urgent minutes of kissing and cuddling and passionate whispers and promises, Sid and Ernie reluctantly dragged themselves away and disappeared down the road into the blackness. The girls could no longer see them but they heard Sid call out, ‘Remember to make sure yer listen to yer wireless tomorrow, girls. Yer never know, old Chamberlain just might mention us two brave sailor boys by name.’

‘Some hope,’ Lou shouted back fondly.

‘Shut up down there, can’t yer?’ came a gruff disembodied voice from an upstairs window.

Lou pulled Babs by the arm and they settled back against the window ledge. ‘What was all that about you staying here the night?’ she said quietly, so as not to disturb the complaining neighbour. ‘You had a row with yer dad or something?’

‘No, I just didn’t wanna get too involved with Sid, that’s all. They’ll be going away soon, so there didn’t seem no point in getting serious for just one night.’

‘Aw, I see.’ Lou didn’t sound in the least convinced.

‘Nice bloke though. How d’yer reckon your Bob managed to get something right for once?’

Babs couldn’t hear Lou’s answer; every sound disappeared inside the tremendous crash of thunder that ripped though the air around them. The sky then flared with a flash of blue and yellow lightning that, for a split second, illuminated everything, including Lou’s terrified expression, with a sickly, ominous light.

‘Sod me! It’s like the world’s coming to an end.’ She shoved her rolled-up umbrella at Babs. ‘I’m going indoors. D’yer want this or are yer coming in with me?’

‘I’ll take the umbrella. Ta, Lou.’

‘Right,’ said Lou, disappearing into the blacked-out passage of her house. ‘Suit yerself. But mind how yer go.’

‘I’ll be all right. See yer Monday,’ Babs called over the sound of the rain that was now sheeting down.

As she dashed off into the pitch-black of the stormy night, Babs heard Lou’s faint reply floating behind her: ‘If we’re still here, girl …’

‘So, what did yer think of the film last night, then?’ Evie was sitting at the kitchen table preparing potatoes for their Sunday lunch. She held her head to one side as she carefully cut round the vegetables and let each long strip of peel fall onto a sheet of old newspaper. ‘Good, was it?’

Babs, who was standing at the sink, kept her back to her sister and carried on cleaning and chopping the cabbage they had been given in the market the day before.

‘Well?’

‘Dunno. Didn’t really see no film.’

Evie laughed. ‘I thought yer was looking pleased with yerself. Freddy that good a kisser, is he?’

‘I dunno, I didn’t see Freddy.’ Babs looked over her shoulder and rubbed her nose with the back of her wet hand. ‘Only gone and joined up, ain’t he?’

‘Blimey.’ Evie dropped the potato she had just peeled into a saucepan of clean water which stood on the table. ‘Another one.’

‘That’s exactly what I said.’

‘Don’t let’s get all humpy,’ Evie said with an encouraging grin. ‘Come on, tell us. What did yer get up to after all? And don’t say yer went out with Lou, ’cos yer know what I mean. I can see from yer face yer saw someone.’

She leaned back in the hard kitchen chair and folded her arms. ‘And from how yer’ve been twittering away like a bleed’n canary since yer woke up, yer must have had a good time.’

Babs turned round to face Evie. She leant back against the sink and she, too, folded her arms. ‘Lou’s brother Bob fixed us up with a couple of sailors he knows from somewhere or other. Yer know Bob and all his mates.’

‘Blimey, if Bob sorted it out, yer was more than lucky it turned out all right.’

Babs laughed. ‘I said that and all.’

‘But sailors, eh?’ Evie nodded her approval. ‘What was your one like – nice?’

‘Yeah. He was all right. Not bad looking and he really talked to me. I’ve always liked that in a bloke.’

‘Seeing him again, are yer?’

Babs moved over to the table and sat down opposite her sister. ‘No.’ She picked up two potatoes, handed one to Evie and started half-heartedly peeling the other one herself. ‘Shame really. I felt a bit sorry for him. Him and his mate’s going off on their first trip in a couple o’ days and he’s never even had a proper girl friend.’

Evie looked dubious. ‘How old is he?’