East End Jubilee (4 page)

‘The wardrobe door’s open.’ Donnie pushed her head inside.

‘Probably thought we had a television hidden there,’ Rose grumbled as she returned the pearls to the socks.

‘They pulled everything out of the toy box,’ Donnie said haughtily. ‘Marlene’s tidying them up.’

Rose smiled. ‘What a waste of time, searching a lot of old teddy bears!’ They laughed as, hand in hand, they went to help Marlene.

What was going to happen to Eddie? Rose wondered as they arranged the toys back in the box. He wasn’t a criminal. They didn’t have a lot of money to flash round. One week she had
barely enough to make ends meet, the next she managed to buy a few extras. She never quite knew how much Eddie would bring home and, since he wouldn’t agree to her working, one wage was all
that ever came into the house.

Rose looked around her daughters’bedroom. You certainly couldn’t call a wardrobe, chest of drawers and two single beds, luxuries. All the furniture had belonged to her parents who
had been killed in an air raid in 1942. They had been sitting in a cinema when the siren went off and failed to reach shelter in time.

Ruby Street was one of the many island roads that had suffered badly in the bombing. Piles of smoking rubble had mounted daily as the aerial barrage intensified and buildings were flattened.
Many of the two up two down Victorian houses that characterized the East End were blown away overnight. Even after eight years, there were still big gaps in the roads and it was only the children
who appreciated the debris as they built camps and dug for treasure amongst the dusty remains.

Rose was well aware that she and the rest of the forgotten island, as it was sometimes called, had to be patient. The authorities were faced with an enormous task. Even though low-rise flats and
maisonettes had been built to compensate for the destruction, prefabs abounded. But it was the islanders’ tough attitude to adversity that Rose admired so much. She was proud to be part of
the community. Even the factories and wharves along the river’s edge were becoming busier again and the ruined Island Baths had now been successfully rebuilt thanks to local support. In
defiance of poverty the women cleaned and polished their front steps even more thoroughly than they ever had before.

A soft summer breeze drifted under the sash window and Rose drifted back to the present as the brass band began to tune up. She drew her fingers through her untidy hair. ‘Well, that
wasn’t too bad, was it?’ she said brightly.

‘Are we still going to the party?’ Donnie asked.

‘’Course we are,’ Rose said cheerfully, although secretly she didn’t feel in party mood, but she also knew that there was nothing more she could do to help Eddie
tonight.

‘Oh, it’s you, Neet.’ Rose answered the tap on the back door.

The caller was Anita Mendoza, her next door neighbour, and Rose smiled trying to hide her blues as Anita entered, dropping her bags and flopping into a chair. ‘Just finished work. Got
soaked too. This bloody weather.’

‘Pity you had to work on Coronation Day.’

‘Had to look after Mrs H’s blooming kids, didn’t I? I’ve got two of me own and there I am, bawling me head off at someone else’s little herberts. Talk about the
middle classes. They had a blooming great champagne do and wanted the kids out of the way. Those two little sods are a nightmare. Still, she made it worth me while and I couldn’t
refuse.’

Anita worked as a daily for a wealthy West End family and received very good pay. Rose had often wondered about getting a similar job herself but Eddie was old fashioned enough to believe a
woman’s place was in the home.

Anita blew out a puff of air. Well built, with short, straight fair hair and soft blue eyes, her friend gazed solemnly at her. ‘So, you’d better tell me what happened to Eddie
today.’

Rose lifted her soft brows. ‘How did you know?’

‘Saw Cissie and Fanny but you know what they’re like for exaggerating.’

‘Well, for once they probably haven’t,’ Rose said quietly. ‘In fact I don’t know where to start.’

‘You were over at Olga’s,’ Anita prompted making herself comfortable. ‘You all turned up to watch the Coronation on her telly . . .’

Rose sat down. ‘Well, it was all lovely at first and the coach had just got to Victoria Embankment when Olga broadcast that it was Eddie who sold them the telly. I didn’t know where
to put me face. As I told you, Eddie promised she was keeping it under her hat.’

‘What did he say?’

‘Who, Eddie?’ Rose shrugged. ‘He wasn’t there.’

Anita smirked. ‘Surprise, surprise.’

Rose frowned at her friend. ‘Oh, he’s not that bad, Neet.’

‘As long as you don’t blink, no.’ Anita’s eyebrows lifted. ‘You gotta admit it, Rose, your old man is faster than a streak of greased lightning.’

Rose had long accepted Eddie’s restless and unpredictable nature so that she almost didn’t notice now. ‘What else did they say outside?’ she asked quietly.

Anita hesitated. ‘The word is Olga’s telly was stolen and Old Bill carted Eddie off to the nick.’

Rose closed her eyes. ‘It’s true. I warned him not to get involved with the Parkers. I knew it was bad luck from the moment he mentioned it last week. We had such a row. It’s
our golden rule not to sell round here and yet he still went and did it.’

‘So what did Mrs High and Mighty Parker have to say about all this?’

‘She said the police questioned her as if she was a common criminal. She was furious.’

Anita groaned. ‘I’m really sorry I wasn’t here,’ she muttered. ‘I’d have given the coppers a piece of me mind.’

Rose believed Anita would have done just that. They’d been friends for a long time and knew each other very well. Since before the war the Nortons had lived next door to Rose’s
parents, but Anita had moved to Stepney and into her in-laws’ house when she’d married Benny Mendoza. Benny’s father, Luis, was from Argentina and had sailed to England as a young
merchant seaman. On one of his visits he had met Benny’s mother Mary, after which Luis had never returned to Argentina.

It was when Benny and Anita and their two sons had returned to Ruby Street in order to care for Anita’s widowed mother that Anita and Rose had grown close. Sadly Mrs Norton died and the
house had passed into Anita and Benny’s hands.

‘Try not to worry,’ Anita said gently. She looked at her wristwatch. ‘Look, I hate to leave you like this. But I have to go over to Stepney. Benny’s mum is keeping an eye
on the boys for me. Are you still going to the party tonight?’

‘Yes,’ Rose nodded. ‘The girls need cheering up after today. Marlene even tried to kick one of the policemen because she saw her father do it.’

‘They must have got rough with him, then.’

‘His nose was bleeding and his hair was all over the place.’

‘Look . . .’ Anita scraped back her short hair with the palm of her hand, ‘if I know Eddie he’ll be home in no time, getting round you as usual and claiming it was all
just a storm in a teacup, and you’ll have spent all this time worrying for nothing.’

Rose smiled. ‘I hope so.’

‘Now I’d better be going. There’s no buses, so I’ll have to bike it over.’

‘Where’s Benny today?’

‘Up in the Lake District somewhere. He’s on a three-dayer, delivering metal locks for sheds to farmers.’

They walked along the hall and heard the girls giggling upstairs. ‘They seem none the worse for wear,’ Anita pointed out.

‘I hope not. They’ve been so excited about the party. I even made them special red, white and blue dresses.’

‘Well, enjoy it for their sakes.’

Rose nodded. ‘I’ll try.’

Anita smiled. ‘See you later, then. I’ll get away from me mother-in-law’s as soon as I can and give you some moral support.’ She stepped out into the busy street and
waved goodbye.

Rose surveyed the colourful scene. All the school benches and tables were lined in the middle of the road. The children were eating and drinking as the women rushed up with refills for their
empty plates. Flags were tied from window to window and everyone was laughing and having a good time. Rose knew she must join in and be merry for she was certain the Weavers were not the only ones
in the area to gain the attention of the police and she very much doubted if they would be the last.

The rain had finally stopped.

Under the crudely painted crowns and Union Jacks strung across the gutters, the bunting hung like bowers of blossom. Festooned lampposts became street maypoles and the tarpaulins had been rolled
away. Plates of cakes, sandwiches, jellies, custards, pies, sausages and even jugs of flowers were spread like a medieval feast over the tables. Rose was happy to see the small weekly donation she
had made to the celebrations had resulted in this. With meat and sugar rationing still in force the party was nothing short of a miracle.

‘Where are we going to sit?’ Marlene asked as they pushed their way through the crowd.

‘Over there.’ Rose pulled the girls towards a vacant bench but they were just beaten to it by some boys. They ended up standing outside Olga’s house and Rose felt uncomfortable
there, but there wasn’t any room to move. She didn’t know what she’d do if Olga started another scene.

Suddenly the brass band struck up. The conductor spoke through a loudhailer explaining they would play a medley of tunes. ‘Buttons and Bows’ first, then ‘Riders in the
Sky’. This announcement received more good-natured heckling than it did applause. Undaunted, the band let rip.

‘Rose!’ It was Len Silverman. He pointed to his own seat. ‘This is for you.’

Rose knew he regretted having told the police about the television, but she didn’t blame him. She understood the reasons why he kept himself to himself. He’d loved his wife dearly
and if he chose to keep her memory alive by preserving the house as it was on the day she died, well then, good luck to him.

‘Thanks, Len.’

‘No hard feelings, I hope, my dear?’

‘None,’ she assured him.

‘I’ll squeeze the girls in over there.’ He pointed to a bench. A little black boy and two tiny girls sat on it, stuffing cake.

Donnie gripped her hand. ‘I want to stay with you, Mum.’

‘What about you, Marlene?’ Len held out a shaky hand. It was deformed with arthritis, but Marlene took it, looking up at him with a beaming smile. Rose knew the children trusted and
liked him. Len often sat outside his front door in the sunshine when the weather was good. The elderly Jew would give them boiled sweets in paper wrappers as special treats.

‘I like the look of them jellies,’ Marlene said eagerly.

‘Then you shall have one.’ With Marlene’s little fingers wrapped in his, the old man led her slowly to the table.

‘Hello, Rose.’ It was Mabel Dixon and her husband Fred. He wore a newspaper hat in the shape of a boat. Mabel, as small and plump as her husband was tall and lean, waved a Union
Flag. Dora Lovell joined them, a red scarf covering her thin hair. She had a big, red white and blue crêpe paper flower pinned to her baggy jumper.

‘Hello,’ Dora said timidly.

Rose summoned a smile. ‘You all look festive.’

Fred laughed. ‘Yeah, don’t they? Like blooming Christmas trees.’

‘You want to take a look at yourself,’ Mabel said crisply, frowning up at her husband’s head.

‘I was just listening to the news on me wireless,’ Dora interrupted quietly. ‘They said the Royal Family all waved from the balcony when they got back to the Palace. Apparently
little Prince Charles and his sister, Anne, looked lovely. The Duke of Edinburgh and the Queen Mother was there too, all smiling and waving to everyone.’

‘Yes, but the wireless is nothing like the television,’ Mabel argued, glancing at Rose. ‘You can’t beat actually seeing things.’

‘I dunno about that,’ her husband frowned. ‘Personally, I prefer me wireless. Don’t go along with all these newfangled contraptions.’

Mabel cast him a withering look. ‘That’s the first I knew of it, Fred Dixon. You’re always quick enough to park yourself right in front of our Susan’s telly.’

Rose stood up. ‘You’ll have to excuse us. I’m gonna get the kids something to eat.’

She could feel their eyes in her back as she walked away. Was it going to be like this all evening, hints rife? When she met Fanny and Cissy, who sat on wooden chairs outside their front doors,
she decided to get the first word in.

‘Enjoying it, are you?’ she asked brightly.

‘Oh yeah,’ Cissy and Fanny nodded. ‘We were just talking about you. About the rollicking the police gave your ‘’ubbie.’

‘The band’s good.’ Rose was determined not to let Cissy and Fanny get to her as they were experts at winding you up.

‘Yeah. Poor bloke. He didn’t deserve to be bashed like that.’

Rose looked away. ‘The kids are having a really good time.’

‘But how are you feeling, gel? You must be dead worried.’

‘All right, thanks.’ She pulled Donnie with her, deciding it was time for action. ‘We’re going over there now. There’s a couple of spaces.’

But they hadn’t gone far when Olga Parker appeared. ‘I want to talk to you, Rose Weaver.’

‘What about?’

‘The television, of course.’

‘Not that again.’

‘We want our money back,’ Olga shouted over the music. ‘Leslie said he wouldn’t touch the television with a bargepole now even if the police returned it. In the
circumstances this has been a very distressing experience.’

Rose could hardly believe that two years ago when the Parkers had moved to Ruby Street she had felt sorry for them as newcomers and had been the first to invite them in for a chat. ‘You
could give Eddie the benefit of the doubt,’ Rose said knowing that Olga had no intention of doing so.

‘Why should we? It was hard-earned money we parted with. Now, are you going to return the fifty pounds?’

‘You have to speak to Eddie when he comes home.’

‘And when will that be?’ Olga arched a thin pencilled eyebrow. Rose thought that if looks could kill she’d be dead right now. ‘After what he did to those policemen I
don’t think you’ll be seeing your husband again for a while.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Assault is a very serious offence, in case you didn’t know.’ Without another word she strode away.