On Mother Brown's Doorstep (8 page)

Jim was gaping.

‘Sammy—’

‘Good,’ said Sammy briskly, ‘I like a man who makes up his mind quick.’

‘I tell yer straight, you just flabbergasted my mind,’ said Mr Brown, ‘but that ain’t goin’ to stop me askin’ if I can shake yer hand.’ They shook hands across the desk.

‘That’s it, then, Jim,’ said Sammy, ‘I’m off out now.’

‘’Alf a tick,’ said Mr Brown, ‘you givin’ me this job because you think I can do it, or because—’

‘You’re gettin’ it because I’ve got trust in yer, Jim.’

‘Well,’ said Mr Brown, ‘I’ll say this much, young guv, if there’s any bloke good enough for Susie, it’s you.’

‘As the manager of one of me scrap yards, you can call me Sammy in or out of business hours. Right, good on yer, Jim. Don’t forget the weddin’, you’re givin’ Susie away.’

‘It’ll be me special pleasure,’ said Mr Brown.

Will Brown had been mentally toughened by his years of hard soldiering, but he still had a soft spot for his family, particularly his parents. His mother was just about the most easy-going woman alive. They’d known desperate poverty when the family lived in Peabody Buildings in Brandon Street, but his mum had never had a cross word for any of them, especially not for his dad, who had come out of the trenches with a gammy leg and no job until Sammy Adams had taken him on. Dad with his optimism and Mum with her ability to always make the best of things, had kept the family going even when hunger stalked and clothes were things of darns and patches.

So, being the son of his warm-hearted parents, Will arrived on the doorstep of Annie’s home at half-past four
on
the day after she’d suffered what she obviously felt was multiplied misfortune. Will knew he’d laughed, that he’d made her want to spit. So he was carrying a bunch of daffodils, wrapped all over. It would be asking for catcalls from street kids for a grown-up bloke, especially a soldier, to be seen carrying a bunch of flowers. He was still wearing his uniform. None of his old clothes fitted him, since he’d only been fifteen when he joined up as a drummer boy, and he hadn’t yet bothered to shop for new stuff. But he had ordered a grey suit for Susie’s wedding.

Nellie answered his knock. With Cassie and Charlie, she was home from their school in Trafalgar Street.

‘Oh, ’ello,’ she said, ‘it’s you.’

‘I see it’s you too, Nellie,’ said Will, ‘I thought I’d come and see how the patient is.’

‘Our Annie? Oh, she went to work this mornin’, at Urcott’s the grocers, but Mr Urcott let ’er come ’ome at two o’clock. She was limpin’ a bit. She’s in the kitchen, she’s just been chuckin’ things at Charlie because ’e said she wasn’t as bossy as when she was lyin’ down. And she chucked the tea cosy at me because I said one of the street kids asked if she was goin’ to ’ave another ride in a pushcart. Would yer please come in?’

‘She’s not goin’ to chuck something at me, is she?’ said Will, stepping in.

‘Oh, it won’t actu’lly ’urt,’ said Nellie, closing the door. ‘We’re ’aving some bread an’ marge an’ cups of tea—’

‘Nellie, who’s that?’ The voice of the young mistress of the house rang out loud and clear from the kitchen.

‘It’s yer soldier friend,’ called Nellie.

‘It’s what?’

‘It’s ’im, Annie, ’e’s come to see how you are.’

There was a short silence, then Annie called, ‘Has he got that pushcart with him?’

‘No, course ’e ’asn’t, have yer, Will?’ said Nellie.

‘Well, is he laughin’, then?’ demanded Annie.

Nellie looked at Will. He tucked his grin away.

‘No, ’e’s not laughin’, Annie.’

‘He’d better not be. He can come in, then.’

Nellie led the way to the kitchen. Cassie and Charlie were sitting at the table, eating bread and marge and drinking tea. Annie was standing with her back to the range. On one leg. Her hand was on the back of a chair, supporting herself. She looked attractively slender in a jumper dress of dark green. The style was a bit out of fashion, particularly as it was waisted, but Annie had bought it half-price at a sale and it suited her. She’d shortened it to knee-length, and that was fashionable at least. Well, these days it was death to a girl not to look a bit fashionable.

‘Good afternoon,’ she said.

‘Same to you,’ said Will, inspecting her one standing leg.

‘D’you mind tellin’ me what you’re lookin’ at?’ asked Annie, with Cassie and Charlie keeping the peace for the moment. She’d told them to.

‘I’m lookin’ for your other leg,’ said Will.

‘I’m restin’ it,’ said Annie.

‘Yes, but where is it, upstairs on your bed?’ asked Will.

‘No, it’s at the doctor’s,’ said Annie, and Cassie burped a giggle she’d tried to suppress. Charlie grinned.

‘What’s it doin’ at the doctor’s?’ asked Will. ‘Havin’ an operation?’

Nellie spluttered.

‘Annie, you’ve got it behind you,’ she said.

Annie lowered it, and Will saw both legs then. Annie’s eyes danced, and she laughed.

‘Caught you there,’ she said.

‘Feelin’ better, are we?’ said Will.

‘She was ’aving you on, Will,’ said Charlie, ‘she said she’d give me an’ Cassie what for if we let on.’

‘Well, it’s my turn to laugh today,’ said Annie.

Charlie said how’s your father to Will, and then told Annie he’d got to go out and bash Georgie Simmonds. He owed him one on his conk. Annie told him to stay where he was or she’d tie him up. Cassie asked Will if he’d just come from guarding the Tower of London. Will said no, that was a job for the Beefeaters.

‘’Ere, ’ave yer fired yer rifle a lot?’ asked Charlie.

‘Now and again,’ said Will.

‘Christmas,’ breathed Charlie, ‘ow many blokes ’ave yer shot dead?’

‘I hit an Indian elephant once,’ said Will.

‘Crikey,’ said Cassie, ‘did it fall down?’

‘No, it hit me back,’ said Will.

‘Oh, did it squash yer flat?’ asked Cassie in awe.

‘’Fraid so,’ said Will, ‘but I’m gradually fillin’ out.’

Nellie let out a yell of laughter. Annie smiled.

‘Would you like a cup of tea?’ she asked.

‘Thanks,’ said Will.

Nellie brought a cup and saucer.

‘What’s in yer parcel?’ asked Cassie of Will.

‘Cassie, don’t be nosy,’ said Annie, pouring the tea.

‘But it might be the Crown Jewels,’ said Nellie, ‘’e might be mindin’ them.’

‘Cor, talk about bein’ up the pole,’ said Charlie.

‘You can sit down,’ said Annie to Will, ‘if you’d be so kind.’

‘Yes, Annie’s honoured you’ve come and asked after ’er,’ said Nellie.

‘Let’s see,’ said Will, ‘who’s got a vase?’

‘Oh, the Queen’s got lots,’ said Cassie.

‘Well, can you ask her to lend us one?’ said Will, unwrapping the daffodils and offering them to Annie. The golden blooms were a bright splash of colour against her dress. Annie stared.

‘Oh,’ she said.

‘Just to make up for dumpin’ you in the pushcart,’ said Will.

‘They’re for me?’ she gasped.

‘They just need a vase and some water,’ said Will, and Annie took the bunch and blinked at them. Will thought she looked very appealing in her surprise and uncertainty.

‘Oh, ain’t they lovely?’ said Nellie, and dashed to the parlour. She came back with a tall vase and half-filled it with water from the scullery tap. She put the vase on the mantelpiece and took the long-stemmed daffodils from Annie, who for once looked as if she didn’t quite know where she was. Nellie placed the blooms in the vase and spread them out. ‘Look, Annie, ain’t they a picture?’

‘Yes, they’re lovely,’ said Annie, feeling all funny. Funny nice, of course.

Noting that Annie, vigorous in chastising him for some of his antics, didn’t seem all there, Charlie said, ‘I ain’t keen on flowers meself, I think I’ll go an’ bash a hole in a wall with Georgie Simmonds’ ’ead.’ And he vanished before Annie knew he was even on his feet.

Will, drinking his tea, said, ‘You girls managin’? Is there anything I can do? Old soldiers like me can be useful.’

‘Old?’ Annie came out of not being quite herself. ‘Old?’ she said. ‘How can you be old?’

‘The Army puts years on blokes.’

‘Well, it’s not put any on you,’ said Annie.

‘Don’t you believe it,’ said Will, ‘I’m nearly a hundred in a way.’

‘What way?’ asked Annie.

‘Mrs Potter’s nearly an ’undred,’ said Cassie.

‘There you are, then,’ said Will, ‘some people do get to be that old.’

‘You’re not makin’ sense,’ said Annie.

‘Anyway,’ said Will, ‘you’re managin’ to limp around and get on with things? No help needed?’

‘Thanks ever so much, but no, I’m managin’ fine,’ said Annie, and took a little rest then by sitting down in the fireside chair. Her short dress let her knees show. Will looked. Annie pulled on her dress and covered her knees. ‘Excuse me,’ she said haughtily.

‘Just havin’ a look at your bruised knee,’ said Will. ‘Well, nice to know it’s improvin’. I’ll get movin’ now. So long, girls.’ Tabby the cat darted in then, made straight for Annie and leapt on to her lap. Annie gave a little yell and her knees showed again. Will grinned. ‘I’m not lookin’,’ he said, ‘I’m off.’

Nellie went after him to see him out.

‘Thanks ever so much for comin’ to see our Annie,’ she said.

‘Pleasure,’ said Will. ‘Tell her I’ll send a pair of trousers round.’

‘Trousers?’ said Nellie. ‘What for?’

‘She’ll know,’ said Will, and went off laughing.

Nellie, returning to the kitchen, said, ‘Will’s funny, ain’t ’e?’

‘What d’you mean?’ asked Annie.

‘’E said ’e’d send you a pair of trousers. ’E said you’d know why.’

‘He said what?’

‘A pair of trousers,’ giggled Nellie, ‘’e said ’e’d send them round.’

Annie quivered all over.

‘Are you laughin’, Nellie?’ she asked.

‘Me?’ said Nellie.

‘I’m not,’ said Cassie.

‘I bet he is,’ said Annie, ‘I bet he went off laughin’. Did he?’

‘Well, ’e wasn’t actu’lly cryin’,’ said Nellie. ‘Ain’t ’e nice, though, Annie? It’s a shame ’e didn’t stay a bit.’

‘I expect ’e’s gone to Windsor Castle to make some lemonade for the Queen,’ said Cassie. ‘She likes lemonade. Annie, what’s ’e goin’ to send you trousers for?’

‘Never you mind,’ said Annie. ‘Just wait till – Nellie, did he say he was comin’ back again?’

‘No, not direckly,’ said Nellie, ‘’e only said about the trousers.’

‘I bet he’ll be laughin’ all the way home,’ said Annie. ‘I – oh, blow, look at the daffs.’ She was shocked at herself.

‘Yes, ’e must like yer,’ said Nellie, scenting romance, ‘you ain’t ever ’ad anyone bring you flowers before. Oh, if ’e don’t come again, though, p’raps it’s because ’e’s finished ’is leave and is goin’ back to the Army.’

Annie gritted her teeth. What must he think of her? She hadn’t thanked him for them, not properly she hadn’t. She’d been so astonished she’d hardly said anything. Oh, blow and bother.

‘Where was it he said he lived?’ she asked.

‘Caulfield Place,’ said Nellie, ‘it’s only down in Browning Street.’

‘I’ll ’ave to—’ Annie stopped. No, she’d have to go in person, so that she could thank him properly, she couldn’t just send a note. She’d be very nice about it, then she’d feel she could give him an earful about sending trousers round. She knew what he’d meant by that, even if her sisters didn’t. And he’d better not laugh at her again. A young lady her age ought to be treated seriously.

‘SAMMY DARLING?’ PURRED
Miss Susie Brown, private secretary, personal assistant and exclusive fiancée to the managing director of Adams Enterprises Ltd.

Sammy, just back from a visit to his East End garments factory, looked up at her from his handsome old desk.

‘Yes, what is it, Miss Brown?’ he asked in strict businesslike fashion.

‘Pardon?’ said Susie.

‘If you could hurry it up, Miss Brown?’

‘I’ll give you Miss Brown,’ said Susie threateningly. Sammy had days when he tried to re-establish an authority she’d managed to knock sideways.

‘Me principles relatin’ to business hours—’

‘Oh, yes, highly formal,’ said Susie.

‘Bless you, Miss Brown,’ said Sammy, the youngest of his mother’s three engaging sons. She’d brought them all up to count their blessings, and Susie happened to be top of his personal list. He thought the world of her and her status as his fiancée, even if he did sometimes wonder what had hit him. Her blue eyes mostly, which on a sunny day could sparkle like sapphires. In a stylish navy-blue costume that set off her fairness, not even a French count with arched eyebrows and a haughtifying family tree could have said she wasn’t a stunner. She was all her own work too, allowing for the original contribution made by her mum and dad. She’d done it all on her own, she’d pulled herself up from being just another shabby and hungry-looking Walworth girl and turned herself into a May
Queen
. Lovely figure too, and very high-class legs. Meritorious, it was, all the Adams female women owning high-class legs. Lizzy, his sister, to start with, Tommy’s wife Vi and Boots’s wife Emily, though Emily was getting a bit thin lately. In a few weeks, Susie’s legs would join the high-class collection. Lovely girl, Susie. Sammy Adams, his mother had said, I never thought you’d have enough sense in your money-box head to ask Susie to marry you, I thought you had hardly any real sense at all. Actually, his feelings for Susie were such that he often didn’t know whether he was upside-down or back to front. In a rash moment, he’d mentioned that to Boots. He should have known better, because Boots of course said well, Sammy, I’d say upside-down, since we all know Susie’s been standing you on your loaf of bread for years.

Susie, viewing him lovingly, said, ‘Sammy, you darling.’

‘You want something,’ said Sammy, feeling he was going to have to raid his wallet. He’d do it too. He was in the hopeless and helpless position of never being able to say no to her.

‘You’re a lovely bloke,’ said Susie.

‘This is goin’ to cost me,’ said Sammy.

‘It’s goin’ to earn you a smacker,’ said Susie. ‘Sammy, you’ve given my dad a new job managin’ our new scrap metal yard.’

‘Think nothing of it,’ said Sammy.

‘I think everything of it,’ said Susie, ‘and you too.’