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Authors: Mary Jane Staples

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BOOK: On Mother Brown's Doorstep
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‘I think you’re familiar to me,’ she said.

‘Hope not,’ said Will, ‘me mum and the Army both brought me up not to be familiar to young ladies.’

Annie glanced around. Mr Urcott and Miss Banks both had customers.

‘It didn’t feel like that at me front door on Sunday night,’ she whispered.

‘Didn’t feel like what?’

‘As if you didn’t go in for bein’ familiar.’

‘Must have forgotten me manners,’ said Will. ‘What about the Brooke Bond?’

‘How much did you ask for?’

‘Quarter-pound packet,’ said Will, ‘plus a pound of dried apricots, a tin of mustard powder and a pound packet of salt.’

‘Yes, sir, thank you, sir,’ said Annie, liking the look of him very much. She served him. ‘Anything else, sir?’

‘Well,’ said Will, who felt he ought to step aside in favour of some bloke who could offer Annie health and virility instead of a wheezing chest, ‘I’ve decided I’d better stay in the Army. There’s too much unemployment knockin’ around in Southwark and Lambeth.’

‘Oh,’ said Annie wishing he hadn’t chosen to tell her here in the shop. At home she could have talked to him about it.

Will, knowing the Army was more likely to discharge him than to let him stay on, could have told Annie so and given her the reason. But he preferred not to present himself as a semi-invalid. It was a case of a young man trying to step aside in what he thought was the way a decent bloke should.

‘I’ll probably be rejoinin’ my battalion in India when my leave’s up,’ he said. The battalion, actually, was due to be posted home in a few months, when its spell of duty in India would be at an end.

Annie felt a painful blow had been struck.

‘Rotten old Army,’ she said bravely. Two new customers came in. ‘Look,’ she said, ‘I’ll speak to my dad. He might know if you could get a job on the railways.’

‘Well, thanks, Annie,’ said Will. ‘How much for the groceries?’

Annie told him, he paid up, put the items into his
carrier
bag, said he’d see her at the wedding dance on Saturday, gave her a smile and left. Annie felt then that some old dark blind had been drawn over her sunshine.

‘Lookin’ forward to dancing at the weddin’, Annie?’ said the Gaffer over a supper of fried mackerel that evening.

‘If I get there,’ said Annie, and the Gaffer glanced at her. She wasn’t too lively this evening.

‘But it’s only down Larcom Street,’ said Nellie.

‘I ain’t keen on dancin’ meself,’ said Charlie.

‘Lucky you ain’t been invited, then,’ said Nellie.

‘Nor me,’ said Cassie, ‘I ain’t been invited, either.’

‘Well, you’d only want to take the cat wiv yer,’ said Charlie.

‘Yes, ’e likes weddings,’ said Cassie, ‘’e’d like to go to Lord Percy’s weddin’.’

‘Cassie, who’s this Lord Percy you keep talkin’ about lately?’ asked Nellie.

‘I read about ’im,’ said Cassie, ‘’e lives in a castle with four ’undred servants.’

‘’Ow many?’ asked the Gaffer.

‘Yes, and ’e’s got ten motorcars and an ’undred black ’orses an’ carriages. ’E’s goin’ to marry a princess.’

‘What princess?’ asked Nellie.

‘I didn’t read which one it was,’ said Cassie. ‘Here, Tabby.’ She fed a piece of mackerel to the cat, a large piece.

‘Cassie, you just fed ’alf yer supper to Tabby,’ said the Gaffer.

‘Well, ’e likes fish,’ said Cassie, ‘an’ besides, ’e’s courtin’.’

‘’E’s what?’ said Nellie.

‘It’s Mrs Boddy’s lady cat,’ said Cassie, ‘’e’s been out nearly all day with ’er, and it’s made ’im ’ungry.’

‘Why?’ asked Charlie.

‘’Ow do I know?’ said Cassie. ‘I know some things, I don’t know ev’rything. Annie, does courtin’ make ladies blush?’

‘Don’t ask me, I’m not bein’ courted,’ said Annie.

‘Oh, ain’t Will courtin’ yer?’ asked Nellie.

‘He’s married to the Army,’ said Annie. No, blow that, she thought, putting aside depression, I’m not going to let him get away with it. Just wait till Saturday and I see him in the Institute. I’m going to stand up for my rights. I’ve got rights after being kissed till I couldn’t hardly stand up. ‘Cassie, I suppose you read it somewhere, did you, that courtin’ makes ladies blush?’

‘Yes, it was in a story, it said that when the ’andsome explorer kissed Lady Penelope on ’er marble staircase, it made ’er blush all over.’

‘Well, I’m blowed,’ said the Gaffer, ‘a kiss on ’er marble staircase, was it? I don’t ever remember I kissed any lady meself except on ’er dewy lips.’

‘Dewy lips?’ Nellie giggled. ‘Where’d you get that from, Dad?’

‘Well, I do a bit of readin’ meself,’ said the Gaffer.

‘Cassie, ’ow’d yer know Lady Whatsername blushed all over?’ asked Nellie.

‘Wasn’t she wearin’ nothink?’ asked Charlie.

‘Course she was,’ said Cassie, ‘she was wearin’ a ruby velvet gown.’

‘So ’ow’d yer know she blushed all over?’ asked Charlie.

‘It said so. It said – oh, ’elp,’ sighed Cassie, looking down at the cat.

‘What’s up?’ asked the Gaffer.

‘I think Tabby’s just done a wee-wee on the kitchen floor,’ said Cassie.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

THE HORSE AND
cart crossed the junction at Camberwell Green, entered Denmark Hill and pulled up outside the public house that was opposite the shop and offices of Adams Enterprises. Mr Greenberg climbed down, put a nosebag on his horse and crossed the road like a man so careless of his life and limb that a tram driver gave him a full clang of his bell. It was doubtful if Mr Greenberg heard it.

He arrived in Sammy’s office with his hat off, his red handkerchief mopping his distracted brow.

‘Hello, Eli, what’s brought you?’ asked Sammy.

‘Sammy, Sammy, you have ruined me.’

‘First I’ve heard of it,’ said Sammy. ‘Are you speakin’ of bankruptcy?’

‘Vorse, Sammy, vorse, ain’t it?’

‘Is it?’

‘Vasn’t it only yesterday I vas hale and hearty and a free man? A poor man, Sammy, but a free one. Today I am ill and in chains.’

‘Well, I’m up to me ears in work meself, Eli, but sit down and get it all off your chest. I’ve got a feelin’ you’re referring to a highly personal matter concernin’ your private life.’

Mr Greenberg, sighing, sat down and began to recount the sad story of his highly personal and private downfall. In the belief that Sammy’s advice, passed to him by Rachel Goodman, would relieve him of the pressing attentions of the widow, Mrs Hannah Borovich, he received her into his
house
last night in his shirt, braces and trousers, which itself startled the lady, she being a woman of propriety. Forthwith, as advised, Mr Greenberg laid hands on her like a man of no propriety at all and bore her to the sofa. There, he did what he could to assault her respectable bosom in a way that would convince her to regard him as the daughters of Abraham regarded Lucifer. Calamity occurred. Mrs Borovich flung her arms around him, kissed him and declared herself his willing woman. She further declared that afterwards she would go with him at once to Rabbi Goldstein for the marriage contract to be arranged. Mr Greenberg, aghast, began to struggle. Alas, Mrs Borovich declared herself already fully compromised, for her blouse and corset were gaping, which Mr Greenberg swore to Sammy wasn’t his doing.

Sammy roared with laughter. Mr Greenberg eyed him in sorrow.

‘Ve are not amused, Sammy.’

‘She cooked your goose for you, Eli.’

‘Vhat a schemin’ voman, ain’t it?’ groaned Mr Greenberg.

‘Do you good, old cock,’ said Sammy, ‘seein’ Rachel informed me she’s a handsome lady. You saw the rabbi?’

‘Vhat else could I do, Sammy? Vhat else vould she let me do? Didn’t she herself take me there vithout vunce lettin’ go of me, and didn’t Rabbi Goldstein greet me vith a hundred smiles and shake my hand?’

Sammy said it was a lesson to both of them, that it didn’t matter what kind of a straightforward plan a man thought up, any female woman could put her foot through it and set about turning him upside-down. He himself had been stood on his head by a certain young woman on frequent occasions, despite him being a self-made man of considerable brains. Which proved one thing for certain.

‘Vhat thing?’ asked Mr Greenberg.

‘Blokes never learn, Eli, not even you and me,’ said Sammy. ‘I ought to have remembered that when I put my wheeze to Rachel to pass to you. Now I know why she laughed. She knew what was goin’ to happen, that Mrs Boggervich was goin’ to turn you upside-down. Well, I’ll resign meself to your weddin’, Eli, and hope you’ll invite me and Susie.’

‘Ah, the veddin’,’ said Mr Greenberg, and groaned again. ‘A vife and three growing sons to be my responsibility? The expense, Sammy, the expense.’

‘I feel for you, don’t think I don’t,’ said Sammy. ‘Ruination has already hit all me own pockets. Still, a handsome woman, think of the compensations. And she can cook, I suppose?’

‘Sammy, I should think of food vhen my stomach don’t have any heart left?’

‘Look on the bright side,’ said Sammy.

‘But a vife and three sons, Sammy.’

‘Congratulations,’ said Sammy. ‘There’s a bottle in me sideboard there. Kindly take a nip with me on account of the blessings.’

‘Vell, Sammy, a nip at a sad time like this is a velcome sign of friendship, ain’t it?’

‘Cassie, you ain’t bringing that cat,’ said Freddy. His mum had made some sandwiches for him and Cassie, and supplied an apple each as well. They were going to eat them in Kennington Park.

‘’E’s got to come,’ said Cassie, ‘’e keeps goin’ off with Mrs Boddy’s lady cat. ’E’ll go off with ’er for good one day. She wants ’im to marry ’er.’

‘Oh, he’s said so, ’as ’e?’ said Freddy.

‘Yes, ’e tells me ev’rything,’ said Cassie.

‘Well, ask ’im to tell yer if ’e minds stayin’ behind,’ said Freddy. ‘They won’t let ’im in the park.’

‘I’ll look after him, love,’ said Mrs Brown.

‘Oh, all right,’ said Cassie.

‘I went up the park earlier,’ said Freddy. ‘They said they’d mind me bike when we get there, Cassie, but they said they didn’t want yer cat around, that they’d got orders to chop its ’ead off if yer bring it. So yer’d better let me mum mind it.’

‘Yes, I said all right. ’E likes fish best, Mrs Brown.’

‘I’ll, find him something,’ said Mrs Brown.

Off the boy and girl went, Cassie riding astride a cushion and swinging her legs. Going along Manor Place, she said, ‘Me sister Annie’s been invited to the weddin’.’

‘Yes, but me bruvver Will says she can’t get there till about five,’ said Freddy.

‘I ain’t been invited,’ said Cassie.

‘Well, you can come with ’er, if you like,’ said Freddy. ‘I expect me mum’ll let yer.’ Up Doddington Grove they went, Freddy ringing his bell at kids. ‘Do yer do dancin’?’

‘Course I do,’ said Cassie, dreaming of kings in scarlet and queens in diamonds. ‘Is there goin’ to be photographs?’

‘Susie won’t ’alf get vexed if there ain’t.’

‘I’m ’aving me photo took,’ said Cassie.

‘Who by?’ asked Freddy, totally resigned to having a scatty mate.

‘Mr Po’s’by,’ said Cassie.

‘Is ’e goin’ to charge yer?’ asked Freddy, skirting a slow-moving corporation water-cart.

‘Course not,’ said Cassie. ‘’E likes me, ’e gives me peppermints.’

‘Fancy that,’ said Freddy. ‘’Ere, if you come with yer sister on Saturday, don’t expect me to dance with yer.’

‘I’ll kick yer if you don’t,’ said Cassie.

When they reached the park, a keeper obligingly took care of the bike, and Cassie took care of Freddy. That is, she made him go where she went and she made him carry the shopping bag in which were the wrapped sandwiches and the apples. She also told him to get her a bunch of daffodils. There were beds of them. Freddy said not on your life, his mum didn’t allow him to nick daffodils and his dad would give him a talking-to. Cassie said he didn’t have to nick them, just help himself when the park-keepers weren’t looking. The Queen helped herself to lots of daffodils at Windsor Castle, and the King never told her it was nicking. Freddy said as he didn’t happen to be the Queen, he wasn’t going to help himself. Cassie said he couldn’t be the Queen, anyway, he wasn’t a lady.

‘Thank gawd for that,’ said Freddy. Still, even if she was scatty, she wasn’t such a bad mate, because when it came to eating the sandwiches she let him have two and a half while she only had one and a half. And when he’d eaten his apple, she let him have two bites out of hers, and she also let him have the core, which he crunched to juicy destruction.

A mate like that was quite valuable to a bloke.

‘Here’s all the letters, Boots,’ said Emily that afternoon, and placed the tray on his desk. ‘I’m off now to buy the fam’ly’s Easter eggs.’

He looked up at her, into her green eyes. She was all green eyes and thin face.

‘Good for you, Em. Sure you’re not overdoing things?’

‘I’m fine. And you know me, if I’ve got nothing to do except sit and twiddle me thumbs, I’m not fit to live with.

Behave yourself now, see you at home later.’ Emily kissed him, warmly and affectionately. It left him in a reflective
mood
, signing the letters without taking too much notice of their contents.

‘I did yer room out today, ’Enry,’ said Mrs Queenie Watts, intercepting her brother as he entered the house in the evening.

‘What for?’ asked Henry Brannigan.

‘Well, you’ve been in a nice and ’elpful mood lately,’ she said, ‘and yer lookin’ lots better.’

‘You don’t need to do me room out, Queenie,’ he said, sure she hadn’t done very much to any of the others. His own room was private to him, anyway.

‘I’d of done yer cupboard out, given it a bit of a tidyin’,’ she said, ‘only yer keep it locked, I notice.’

‘I’ve got personal things in it, mementoes, like.’

‘Oh, about yer poor Matty, of course. Still, I thought I’d give yer room a nice clean-up, and I put a bit of polish on the furniture.’ Actually, she’d just given everything a fuck with her feather duster while nosing around to see if there was anything that would point to him having found a woman.

‘Good of yer, Queenie, but I can manage.’

‘Well, it’s pleasin’ yer not so sorrerful about things,’ said Queenie. ‘You sure you ain’t found someone that’s givin’ you a bit of a lift?’

BOOK: On Mother Brown's Doorstep
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