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Authors: Carol Rivers

East End Angel (47 page)

BOOK: East End Angel
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‘Now he’s the kind of man your sister needs.’

Pearl smiled. ‘He always liked Ruby.’

‘Why don’t you telephone your mum’s neighbour?’ Gwen nudged her arm. ‘Have a word with your sister on the phone. Do you two good to have a natter.’

Pearl wasn’t at all certain if that was a good idea. She hadn’t trusted herself to phone before as she had been very upset about what her mother had told her.

‘Give her a ring tomorrow, p’raps, whilst Cynth is at the party?’

Pearl nodded thoughtfully. She would decide what to do in the morning.

Chapter 30
 

The August sun made the telephone box very hot. Pearl had to wait whilst Patty ran in next door to get Ruby. As she waited, the children outside were screaming and laughing. Most of the backyards were full of kids. She could hear a piano being played and the sound of singing. All the pubs were hoping for trade.

‘Hello, Pearl.’

‘Ruby!’

‘I’m sorry I ain’t written.’

Pearl knew why, but couldn’t say their mother had told her about the aspirin. ‘How are you?’ she asked instead.

‘All right. But I’m fed up with looking at fields and cows.’

‘I thought you liked the country.’

‘I don’t without Ricky.’

Pearl held the telephone tightly. ‘You’ll have to get on with your life.’

‘Don’t keep on, like Mum does.’

‘She’s only trying to help.’ Pearl had to strain to hear her above the noise outside.

‘She says he couldn’t have loved me or the baby.’

‘Mum wrote that Mr Brewer came to see you,’ said Pearl, putting her finger in her other ear, as some noisy young people went by.

‘Yes, but he couldn’t stay long. He had some business to attend to close by. We went for a drive and then had tea at the market. But I was glad when he went.’

‘Why?’

‘I was thinking of the baby and Ricky.’ She began to cry.

‘You’ll have another baby one day.’ Pearl had to shout as the singing and laughing outside grew louder.

‘What’s going on?’ Ruby asked miserably.

‘It’s VJ day.’

‘There’s nothing much doing round here.’

Pearl didn’t want to stop talking but she had to. ‘Ruby, I haven’t got any more money to put in. Please try to write.’

‘I’ll try, but I don’t have much to say as nothing really happens.’

‘Doesn’t matter. Anything will do, just to let me know you’re all right.’

Ruby mumbled something just as the pips went and the call ended. Slowly Pearl replaced the receiver. She rested her head on a pane of glass and closed her eyes. She felt sad for Ruby, but what could be done? Life in Abingley was not the end of the world. It could be a lot worse. Ruby had set her sights on country living when they were at Brawton. But now she disliked it. Pearl couldn’t wave a magic wand for Ruby, though she was beginning to wonder if she’d been trying to do that all her life.

Perhaps it was the sight of the happy youngsters outside that caused Pearl to turn towards Roper’s Way. Twenty-two years of her life and twenty of Ruby’s had been spent there. For their Mum and Dad it had been more, as Gran and Granddad Jenkins had lived there since before the First World War. Pearl couldn’t remember them, as Granddad was killed in France and Gran died soon after. Aunt Till and Uncle Ted, Aunt May and Uncle Ron, her cousins Betty and Jane and Howard lived miles away. The last time there had been a family reunion was on her wedding day. What had happened to the closely knit family that once was? The war had broken so many families apart. She found herself entering Roper’s Way and hardly recognized it.

There was now nothing left of number twenty-four. All that remained was one wall that held the fireplace. Around it was all rubble. The Sampsons’ had disappeared under a mountain of broken bricks. You wouldn’t even know a house had been there except for the debris. Other houses along the road had been abandoned too. Once again the looters had stripped them bare.

Slowly Pearl walked up to the debris. Her eyes searched for anything she might recognize. A door knocker, a shelf, a pot or pan, floor tiles, a reminder of home. But there was nothing, only the chimney breast, its bricks slowly disintegrating, large gaps under the broken mantel where the flowery tiles had been. Tiles were valuable in wartime. Someone had helped themselves to them all.

She found herself stumbling up the mountain of debris, trying to balance, turning over the pieces of brick that had crumbled so badly no one wanted them. When she came to the top, she looked over at what was once the backyard. The workmen had begun to remove what was left of the factory. There were big signs on the boards: ‘Danger. Keep Out.’

Whatever the reason for the explosion, it had changed the course of their lives. If the factory had still been standing, then twenty-four Roper’s Way would have been too. Her parents would still be living there and Ruby might never have left home. She might never have married Ricky. And when Jim came home from war, their lives could have been very different.

She picked her way to the fireplace, once her mum’s pride and joy. The mantel was broken and the hearth was blocked by a large object covered in soot.

A hand grasped her. ‘You should be more careful, Pearl. This is not the place to go poking around.’

‘What . . . where did you come from?’ she gasped.

‘I’ve been watching you for some time,’ said Ricky.

She tried to pull away her arm. ‘Let me go.’

‘All right, but you know these bomb sites can be very dangerous. And after all,’ he sneered, ‘that’s all this is now. A dirty, long-forgotten road that even the authorities don’t want to be bothered with.’

The harsh words hurt. She looked around for someone, anyone she could call out to. But on this day of celebration the street was deserted.

‘Wh-what do you want?’

‘It’s not
what
I want but who.’

‘Leave me alone,’ she blurted. ‘If the police find you—’

But Ricky only laughed. ‘Let them look all they want.’

‘Did you steal the money?’

‘It wasn’t stealing. I am owed more money than I could ever take from this country. Do you know that my so-called employers put me in this ridiculous little room and expected me to add up figures all day?’ A coldness came into his gaze as he lifted his deformed hand and banged it against his head. ‘Was that how I was to be treated? Like some sort of freak when I fought for this country and I deserved to be acknowledged for what I did. I got nothing. Nothing! We could have been on the other side of the world by now if only you’d listened to me.’ He pulled her against him. ‘You belong to me, Pearl. You’re mine.’

‘Stop it, stop it!’ she screamed. ‘I hate you for what you’ve done to me and my sister.’

‘Ruby is a silly girl,’ he growled, his eyes wild and dark. ‘I’ve been watching you and I know that Jim has left you.’ He smiled unpleasantly. ‘Did he find out about us? Was knowing that I’d made love to you in a way that he never could, the reason he left? Admit it, Pearl, your marriage is over.’

‘No!’ Pearl screamed. ‘Jim loves me.’ She struggled to be free but he wouldn’t let her go. As she screamed he put his hand over her mouth. She closed her eyes and bit the burned skin as hard as she could.

His howl of pain echoed round the street. She turned and fled, stumbling blindly to the Sampsons’. The dust flew up in her face and choked her.

She could hear his shouted taunts and threats as he followed her. Were they never going to stop?

Suddenly there was a loud bang and the ground trembled. She found herself falling, tumbling and turning down to the bottom of the debris.

Gwen was worried. It was half-past one and Pearl had been gone all morning. It didn’t take that long to walk to the phone box and speak to Ruby. Although the shop was closed for the holiday, the door was open for Cynthia.

Gwen looked up and down the road. Unlike VE day there were no tables filled with food. Even the bunting seemed to flap listlessly in the breeze. A few women stood on the doorsteps, as the kids played noisily in the backyards, making the most of the holiday. Once more Gwen’s brow furrowed as she wondered where Pearl could be.

Fitz was sweeping in the storeroom. Gwen poked her head round the door. ‘Fitz, Pearl ain’t back yet.’

He looked up, resting his arm on the top of the broom. It was a hot day and his collar was open under his brown overall. ‘She’s probably having a gas somewhere.’

‘It’s a bloody long one, if she is.’

‘Might have called in to see someone.’

‘Like who?’

Fitz passed his hanky across his sweating forehead. ‘So what do you want me to do?’

‘Don’t know. Wish I did.’ Gwen felt a shiver of unease. ‘I’ve just got this feeling.’

‘Give her another half-hour. If she’s not back, I’ll go up to the box. But don’t reckon I’ll need to.’

‘No, probably not,’ Gwen smiled faintly. She was probably worrying for nothing, but after all that had gone on with Jim, and bearing in mind his temper, could they have met and had a set-to? No, she was being daft. Returning to the shop, she waited for Dillys to bring Cynth home.

It was almost four o’clock by the time Gwen reached Percy’s. The big wooden gate was ajar and she squeezed through, standing breathlessly in the cluttered space. She didn’t like having to come here, not after the way Jim was behaving. But it was the only place they hadn’t tried. Fitz had gone up to the phone box and come home without any answers.

‘Pearl!’ Gwen called, walking slowly forward. She moved carefully between the old bedsteads, chairs, horsehair mattresses, clocks, clothes, piles of newspapers, ladders, tin baths and any amount of rags buried under them. ‘Pearl, are you there, gel?’ she shouted as she came to the ramshackle old cottage that was Percy’s home.

The door creaked open. ‘Who’s there?’ a gruff voice said.

‘It’s me. Gwen Hemsley.’

The old man came out. Wiping his whiskers, he frowned under his cap. ‘It’s an ’oliday. I ain’t buying or selling terday.’

‘I don’t want to buy or sell. I’m looking for Pearl.’

‘What, you mean the lad’s missus?’ he asked.

‘Course I do,’ Gwen said impatiently. ‘Have you seen her?’

Percy shuffled from one foot to the other. ‘No, I ain’t.’

‘Then I’ll have a word with Jim.’

Percy’s bushy grey eyebrows rose. ‘Listen, if I was you—’

At this Gwen lost patience. ‘Listen, Percy, if he’s here, then I want to see him.’ She tightened the belt on her pinafore. ‘Now, which way?’

Percy shrugged under his overcoat and pointed to the stable. ‘It’s open, help yerself You’ll find him in the loft. But don’t say I didn’t warn yer.’

Gwen hurried over. She didn’t care for the muck that horses left behind them, and cared even less for the stink they created in hot weather. But she liked Barney, and as he turned his big head slowly towards her, twitching his ears against the flies, she gently patted his rump.

‘Jim, are you there?’ she called up the ladder.

Receiving no answer, she stepped on each rung cautiously. Poking her head above the rafters she saw a shaft of sunlight. In the dusty beam a body was stretched out on the straw.

‘Jim, is that you?’

No movement came and she clambered onto the ledge. Poking his leg with her shoe, she said fiercely, ‘Jim, you lazy bugger, wake up!’

He stirred and turned away.

‘Jim Nesbitt,’ she shouted again, ‘wake up this instant.’

Slowly he lifted his head.

‘My God, look at the state of you!’ Gwen put her hands on her hips.

‘What do you want?’

‘Some help, that’s what. Get up, you dozy bugger.’

‘Go away, Gwen.’

‘I wish I could,’ she answered furiously. ‘I wouldn’t waste me time here if I didn’t need your help.’

‘Did Pearl send you?’

‘No, she bloody didn’t,’ Gwen snapped as he sat up, holding his head. ‘Your wife has disappeared. She went to phone Ruby this morning and ain’t come back since. Cynth is upset her mummy is gone. You’ve got a little girl to think of and it’s about time you started pulling your weight.’

Slowly he climbed to his feet. Blinking his bloodshot eyes, he slurred, ‘Disappeared? Where?’

‘Don’t know, do I? For Gawd’s sake, Jim, where can she be?’

‘She ain’t just gone out somewhere?’

‘I shouldn’t be here if that was the case. The girl has got a home to look after. She never goes out without saying where she is. She’s as reliable as clockwork, which is more than I can say for you. I’m at my wits’ end and you are the only who can help.’

He gazed at her for some while, then stooped to lift his jacket from the boards. In silence he passed her and climbed down the ladder.

Jim was trying to think past the hammer hitting his brains. He held his daughter in his arms, as always the guilt of being apart from her washing through him now he was sober. Gwen and Fitz were good sorts; but after that night when he’d walked out and left his home a wreck, he’d been too ashamed to face them. Now, as he stood in their back room, with their anxious faces directed towards him, he tried to pull himself together.

BOOK: East End Angel
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