Eve of the Isle (22 page)

‘Dunno. But this bloke was all done up like a dog's dinner. He stood to attention when he saw me, but the woman just hung on to him. I asked did they know which was Mr and Mrs Slygo's, and the woman burst into laughter. She said, “You're staring him right in the face.” 'Course I was a bit shocked as she wasn't Joan – at least, as I don't know her I could only guess. But this floos – this girl – wasn't no sister of yours.'

Peg dropped her cigarette. ‘You mean it was Harold with another woman?'

Jimmy shrugged. ‘Don't know him, do I? Only what you and Eve told me.'

‘You can't miss Harold, he's short, fat and ugly.'

‘That's him.'

‘I don't believe it.'

‘I could be wrong.'

‘And she said, after you asked for him by name, that you was looking at him?'

Jimmy nodded.

‘What did you do?'

‘I buggered off. What else?'

For a while they sat there in silence. Then Peg dropped her head in her hands. ‘I can't think about that now.'

‘'Course not.'

‘Where can Eve be?'

‘Did she say anything to you . . . about . . . about that Charlie Merritt?'

Peg's head shot up. She looked into Jimmy's eyes. ‘What's he got to do with Eve?'

‘Dunno. I was just wondering, that's all.'

‘What's going on, Jimmy?'

Jimmy guessed that Eve hadn't said anything to Peg about the note. And then it dawned on him. Like a great big hammer banging on his head, the truth became clear. Eve had gone to look for Somar Singh.

Peg grabbed his arm. ‘Jimmy, don't lie to me. What's up?'

Jimmy didn't want to betray Eve's confidence, but now he was certain that Eve had disappeared because of what he had done.

Chapter Thirteen

E
ve felt stiff and sore. She was in a dark room. Was it the one at the pub? Had she fainted here? By the feel of the bump on her forehead, she had hit it as she fell.

Gradually she moved her arms and legs, groping in the darkness for something to hold on to: a table, a chair, a door. On all fours, she crawled around the black space. There was sawdust beneath her hands and she could smell the heavy tobacco scent. A piece of rough wood caught her palms. She tried to stand up, but a wave of sickness flowed over her. She sank down again, as her knees buckled beneath her. It was like being in a dark cave.

Eve called out for help. There was no answer. Each time she yelled she listened carefully for a reply. Was she locked in here? When she felt a little calmer, she would try to find the door.

Jimmy had finished telling Peg all about the note and what he had found out. Peg stared at him white-faced.

‘Why didn't she tell me what she had in mind?' Peg said in a whisper.

‘We don't know for sure she's gone to Shadwell.'

But Peg shook her head. ‘She'd never stay out this late without a good reason.'

Jimmy stared down at his dirty cuffs. ‘This is all my fault.'

‘What do you mean?'

‘I gave her the gen on Singh.'

‘Yes, you did, son, but you didn't know this was going to happen. If anyone is to blame here it's me.'

Jimmy glanced up. ‘Why's that?'

Peg's voice was troubled as she replied. ‘Me and Eve ain't seen eye to eye lately. I let my feelings be known when I should have kept me trap shut.'

‘About Charlie?'

‘I didn't trust the bloke – well, he was a copper, it's me natural instinct to distrust them. And then she gave me the rent, poor cow, but I spent it and decided the council could sing for their supper as the roof wasn't done. Then when Sister Mary got on her high horse about the boys, I put me four penneth in again.'

‘Yeah but that ain't nothin' to do with Singh.'

‘She didn't want to tell me what was going on, though, did she?'

‘She didn't tell me, either,' pointed out Jimmy, ‘that she was off to Shadwell on her own. I said to her, she should get Charlie. He's a copper after all.'

Peg caught hold of his wrist. ‘That's it. That's who we should ask.'

‘What, Charlie?'

‘You're right, he's a copper.'

But Jimmy pulled away. ‘I ain't going to no station! They'd nick me for just stepping over the doorstep.'

‘Then what do we do?'

He rubbed his chin. ‘Wait a minute. Let me think.'

‘There's no time for that,' cried Peg angrily. ‘Gawd knows what's happened to her. Shadwell of all places! I've sold me flowers in some places and visited a few dives, but even I wouldn't go down sailortown at night.'

Jimmy stood up. ‘I've just had an idea.'

‘What?'

‘Think back to the day when Charlie helped clear up the cottage.'

Peg nodded irritably. ‘Get on with it, Jimmy.'

‘Well, what did he come in? His old man's new runabout!' Jimmy gazed into Peg's uncomprehending eyes. ‘And what was written on the side?'

‘Christ, Jimmy, I don't know.'

‘It was Merritt the Baker, something like that. Eve said the shop was somewhere off the Commercial Road.'

‘That's a long bloody road.'

‘Yeah, but a baker's shop! Now, some of 'em babble and brook till dawn. Have to have the stuff ready for their rounds men. If his dad's there, he'll put us right for Charlie.'

‘What happens if you can't find it? What if . . .'

Jimmy slapped on his cap. ‘Don't worry. The worst comes to the worst, I'll go to the law and that's a promise.'

‘I'll keep you to that one, Jimmy.'

He gave her a peck on the cheek and left. He was going to cycle up to the Commercial Road faster than he had ever cycled anywhere in his life before.

Robbie Lawrence punched Charlie playfully on the arm as they finished their late shift. ‘Do you fancy a snifter at my place?'

‘It's a bit late,' said Charlie, buttoning up his donkey jacket. Robbie shared rooms with another copper, Johnny Puxley, a hardened drinker and it would be shop talk over the ale till the early hours. ‘I'm all in.'

‘It's Friday night, lad, you should be letting your hair down.'

‘I'll take you up on a drink tomorrow night.'

Robbie snaked a hand through his blond waves. ‘You certainly will. I've got a bit of a surprise for you.'

Charlie smiled. ‘Oh yeah?'

‘A foursome. Me and Venetia, you and Ven's chum.'

‘A girl?'

‘She's a cracker, Charlie.'

They strolled in and out of pockets of river mist, a soft breeze ruffling the leaves of the plane trees in the darkness. Charlie didn't object to working late when it was like this; he had time to gather his thoughts as he
walked home. The last thing he fancied right now was lumbering himself up with a date. He wouldn't have minded a quick drink with Robbie. There wasn't much to do now the football season was over. Only a few games here and there, but tomorrow he had a free day and was going to help his old man in the shop.

‘So, we're all set then? Say seven at my place?'

‘I don't know, Robbie . . .'

‘Hand on my heart, Bunty will knock your socks off.'

Bunty! The name alone made Charlie shiver. ‘If there's four of us, we can hardly take Dad's van . . .'

‘No need old son. We'll go in Johnny's motor.'

‘He's letting you borrow it?'

‘No, he's driving.'

Great, thought Charlie, racking his brains for an excuse, now Johnny was in the picture. Charlie liked a few ales, but he also appreciated decent company rather than drinking sprees. As for this Bunty, no doubt she would be plum in the mouth as Robbie's taste in women ran to more than he could afford, more than his salary paid. Venetia Harrington was a woman of substance according to the station grapevine and Charlie couldn't see himself enjoying the company of a Venetia mark two at any price.

‘Rob, I'm saving for me own place, you know that.'

‘The night's totally on me, chum.'

Charlie stopped and frowned at his friend. ‘You can't afford this, Robbie. You're only on the same whack as me.'

Robbie leaned forward, his handsome face amused. ‘I had a winner yesterday, a little filly with flying hooves. Trust me, Charlie, I can afford it all. Cocktails, dinner, a club and dancing the night away. And you don't have to fork out a penny.'

‘I wouldn't have that,' Charlie refused abruptly. ‘You know I'd pay my way.'

‘You're on, my friend,' Robbie laughed, ‘but I can promise you the expense will be worth it.' He nudged Charlie's arm sharply. ‘Ah, here's Johnny now. You sure you don't don't fancy a nightcap?'

‘No, thanks all the same.' Charlie glanced along the road to see bright headlights winking at them, illuminating the dark Stepney street. The big car drew up alongside them.

‘Hey, you two, climb aboard.' Johnny Puxley's broad features, already blunted by hard living, were hidden under the brim of a trilby. As a detective, he was probably good at his job, thought Charlie as the exhaust fumes bottled out from the back of the motor, but as a man, Charlie was unimpressed with Robbie's new pal.

‘I'll walk,' Charlie replied with a grim smile. ‘It's a nice night for a stroll.'

Johnny shrugged, leaning his elbow out of the window. He lifted the trilby and gave a mocking smile. ‘Still singing to the tune of the good and faithful copper on his beat, Charlie?'

Charlie's expression hardened. ‘That's what I am, Johnny, a copper. And so are you.'

He didn't miss the coldness in Johnny's eyes as he felt Robbie slap him on the back. ‘Seven on the dot,' Robbie shouted as he jumped in. ‘Don't be late.'

Charlie stood on his own, his brow creased in concern. He was trying to separate his distaste for the driver of the car from his loyalty to Rob. How did Robbie afford his lifestyle? The new rooms he'd moved into up West with Johnny, a copper older but not a lot wiser, must cost a fortune. Had Robbie's penchant for the wrong sort of women surfaced again? Was Venetia a replacement for Diana Thomas, the married woman who had once almost ended Robbie's career?

Charlie walked on, deep in thought. The stars and moon were sitting high up in a flawless violet sky. The city was asleep and tomorrow promised to be a perfect day.

As he turned on to the Commercial Road, he realized it was only a short while ago that Robbie had warned him against Eve, calling her the wrong sort of woman and telling him not to confuse his high and mighty ideals with the way the law worked. Well, there was the pot calling the kettle black for you!

Charlie strolled slowly, enjoying the freedom and beauty of the uncluttered streets. He wondered if Eve had received his note, if the boys had given it to her. He'd taken a gamble on Eve reading it and coming to the station. He'd been on tenterhooks ever since, hoping she would walk through the door and ask for his help. But all he could assume from her silence was that she
really felt as strongly as she'd said. The fact that she thought he was bad news for her lads had cut him deep at the time, and still did.

Charlie sighed heavily as he considered his failed plan. He thought when the
Tarkay
had sailed in, Lady Luck was with him. Now he wished he hadn't given the note to Samuel and Albert and had mustered the courage to go to the cottage himself. At least he could have looked into her face and got the brush-off. He shouldn't take it personally, he knew that. The Force was not the most favoured amongst East Enders and the sooner he accepted that, the better off he'd be.

Still, on a night like this, as he gazed up at the moon, it was Eve Kumar and not a woman by the name of Bunty, who filled his thoughts.

Jimmy swiped the sweat from his eyes as he made a left turn from East India Dock Road into the narrow streets of Limehouse. Once or twice he was halted by a cart or barrow bouncing over the cobbles and the occasional motor vehicle. The breeze was full of summer's scents; the river and the tar and the taverns, the markets that would soon be opening and the food stalls, the barrows, the costers and his one big hope, the bakeries. Thank God it was a bakery. If you inhaled hard enough, you could find them blind. Though Peg was right, Commercial Road was a long one, the main thoroughfare from the docks to Aldgate and the gateway from the East to the city. All he had to do was find one little shop.

As he rounded a bend, he came upon a milk cart and asked for Merritt's.

The milkman held a large pitcher in his hands, full of fresh milk. ‘Dunno it, lad. You say it's off the Commercial Road? Which end?'

Jimmy shrugged. ‘Wish I knew mate.'

‘You tried the station?'

Once more Jimmy had cold shivers at the mention of the law. He thanked the milkie and renewed his journey from Limehouse to Whitechapel. He'd cycled this way many times and flew past the headquarters of the Salvation Army and the many taverns overhanging the broad streets. On he went, skirting the locked gates of the metal industries, the foundries and sugar refineries and holding his breath at the fish curing plant. Emerging from the cheap lodgings for dockers were a few men and women either beginning their day or at the end of it. When he came to the intersection with the Commercial Road he pulled on his brakes.

Right or left? Now that was a poser. He wiped the sweat from his face with the back of his sleeve and cycled furiously to his left. It was the last stretch of the thoroughfare before Aldgate.

Peg wandered aimlessly. She kept going back into the front room to look at the clock. Then she lit another roll-up, went upstairs to glance at the kids. They were fast asleep.

‘I'll wear those stairs through if I ain't careful,' she
told herself as she poked her head out of the front door and gazed up the hill. All was still, almost breathless. Perhaps there was a whisper of breeze in the plane tree at the top. She ventured out into the road and folded her arms, looking this way and that. If it wasn't for the lads she'd go off searching for Eve herself.