Tilly True (45 page)

The two shops were doing so well that Clem had suggested they might consider giving up the carting side of the business and concentrate on buying and selling. Realising the good sense behind the idea, Tilly readily agreed, and was quite happy for Clem to attend bankruptcy sales of furniture and warehouse clearances, while she concentrated on the china and household goods. She found that mops, brooms and scrubbing brushes were in great demand, and gradually their range increased until they could supply everything for the home, from a dishrag to a chiffonier.

An unusually warm September gave way to a blustery October and a dank, chilly November. Tilly arrived in Red Dragon Passage early one afternoon on a particularly bleak day at the beginning of the month to find a letter waiting for her. Her heart missed a beat and her mouth went dry as she took it from the mantelshelf while Nellie fussed about making tea. The writing on the envelope was familiar but it was not Barney's. With trembling fingers, Tilly opened it and took out the single sheet of expensive writing paper.

As Nellie bustled in from the scullery carrying a tray of tea, Tilly folded the letter and stuffed it into her pocket.

‘Not bad news. I hope, Tilly?'

‘No, Ma, just a note from Hattie. She's engaged to be married.'

‘To that nice young officer you told me about?'

‘No, to a rich landowner who lives in a mansion.'

Setting the tray on the table, Nellie stared curiously at Tilly. ‘Ain't it time that husband of yours sent for you? I reckon he's forgotten he ever had a wife.'

‘He's a soldier, Ma. He can't just do what he wants.'

‘You can't fool me,' Nellie said, shaking her head. ‘I knows you too well. I think there's something you're not telling me.'

Glancing out of the window, Tilly realised that the light was fading fast and there was the sulphurous yellow tinge in the air that meant one thing only: the beginning of a real pea-souper. Jumping to her feet, she made a grab for her bonnet and shawl. ‘I got to go, Ma. If I don't leave now I won't be able to see a hand in front of my face when it gets dark.'

‘But Tilly, you haven't answered my question.'

‘Got to go, Ma. See you next week.'

The choking yellowish-green fog was getting thicker by the minute when Tilly arrived back at the shop. She found Ernie had been left in charge, with Bert sitting in his chair gesticulating and muttering.

‘Where's Clem?' Tilly closed the door behind her, shutting out the creeping fingers of the London particular.

Ernie glanced nervously at Bert, who was shaking his fist at him. ‘He's not right in the head, missis.'

‘Never mind that. Where's Clem?'

‘Had to go out urgent, missis. Said to tell you that there was a bankrupt sale in Wharf Road and he couldn't miss it. Said he'd be back afore dark.'

‘All right, Ernie. I'll take over now. You get off home.'

Without waiting to be told a second time, Ernie scuttled out of the shop and was swallowed up by the fog.

Bert began to make agitated noises and Tilly went over to him, taking his one good hand and patting it in an effort to soothe him. ‘What is it you want?'

Rolling his eyes, Bert pointed to the door.

‘Yes, of course,' Tilly said, in the tone she might have used to pacify Diamond in one of her tantrums. ‘We'll take you home as soon as Clem returns. He really shouldn't have gone out and left you with the boy.'

Bert nodded and made a sound that Tilly recognised as assent. It was so unlike Clem to go off without telling her, but perhaps the pea-souper had delayed him. Tilly went to the till and took out the day's takings. Counting the money, she stowed it in a leather pouch and went into the back room to lock it in the safe. As she turned the key, she heard the doorbell jangle, and, thinking it must be Clem or a late customer, she hurried out into the shop. Three men holding cudgels stood in the doorway, their caps pulled down low over their eyes and mufflers disguising the lower parts of their faces.

‘We come to collect.' The ruffian who appeared to be the leader moved forward, tapping his cudgel against the flat of his hand in a menacing manner. ‘Pay up, lady, and no one will get hurt.'

Bert made guttural noises in his throat and the intruder nearest to him raised his fist as if to strike.

‘No!' Tilly cried. ‘Don't touch him. Can't you see he's a sick old man?'

‘Pay up, lady, and he won't get hurt, nor you neither.'

‘I know you,' Tilly said slowly. She would never forget that voice or those scarred hands that had ripped her blouse and fumbled her breasts when she and Hattie were attacked in the street. ‘You're part of the Old Stairs gang.'

‘Yeah, got it in one. We're the Old Stairs gang, and if you knows that then you knows you got to pay up.'

‘Get out of here.' Surprised at her own temerity, Tilly stood her ground. They were only callow youths after all, and she was not going to give in to their demands. ‘There's no money in the till. See for yourself.' The till opened with a loud ker-ching as Tilly pressed the key.

The third youth picked up a china chamber pot and dropped it on the floor, where it smashed into fragments. The one who had threatened Bert swiped his cudgel along a shelf, sending cups and saucers flying. The sound of breaking china echoed around the room.

The leader of the gang took a step towards Tilly, brandishing his cudgel in her face. ‘Pay up or it'll be the old man next.'

Bert let out a loud roar and pitched himself off his chair, tackling the youth with such force that they went down on the ground, sprawling amidst the broken shards. Tilly leapt forward to protect him but was picked up as though she were a rag doll and tossed on to Bert's chair. For a man who had been all but paralysed, Bert hung on with amazing strength, growling and slavering. Pinned down by Bert's considerable weight, the boy kicked and swore as he struggled to get free. His mates hurled themselves into the fray and all Tilly could see was a mass of flailing limbs. Struggling to her feet, she seized a broomstick and hit out at any part of a body that she could wallop, screaming for them to leave Bert alone.

She leapt backwards as the door opened, broom raised to strike if it was another member of the gang, and almost cried with relief when she saw Clem. He paused on the threshold taking in the scene and then, rolling up his sleeves, he grabbed the youth on top by the scruff of his neck and pitched him out into the street.

‘Stand back, Tilly,' he roared, seizing the next one and dragging him to his feet.

‘If it ain't old peg leg.' Snarling and baring his teeth, the boy wrenched himself free and squared up to Clem, fisting his hands. ‘Let's see you fight me then, peg leg.'

Tilly brought the broom handle down across his back, momentarily diverting his attention. Grabbing him by the shoulders, Clem spun him round and landed a punch on the jaw that sent him staggering towards the doorway, where he tripped over the doormat and stumbled out into the street.

‘Help Bert,' Tilly cried, as the pair on the floor rolled over and over, grunting and grappling. ‘He's killing your dad.'

Throwing himself on them, Clem almost disappeared in a tangle of limbs, but somehow he managed to separate Bert from his assailant. Tilly attempted to drag Bert clear of the fight, but he was too heavy for her. Then, with one desperate upper cut to the jaw, Clem managed to stun his opponent. Hefting him off the ground, he threw him out onto the street. ‘If I see any of you round here again you won't get off so lightly,' he roared, slamming the door and locking it. His fierce expression turned to one of concern as he put his arm round Tilly. ‘Did they hurt you? Are you all right, love?'

Unable to speak, Tilly managed to nod her head. Clem stroked her hair, holding her so tightly that she could feel his heart pumping away inside his chest.

‘I'm here now, Tilly. You was brave but foolish to try and take them ruffians on. Promise me you'll never do that again.'

‘Oh, Clem.' Tilly leaned against him, resting her head on his shoulder. While she was trying to fight them off she had not been afraid, but now she was shaking all over.

‘If they've harmed you I swear I'll kill them,' Clem said, his voice breaking with emotion. ‘If that ever happens again just give them what they want, Tilly. Don't ever risk your life for a bag of money.'

The world was beginning to right itself and Tilly remembered Bert. Pulling away from Clem, she threw herself down on her knees beside his prostrate figure. ‘Bert, are you all right? Oh, my God. I think he's dead.'

Kneeling beside her, Clem turned Bert over onto his back and felt for a pulse in his neck. He bent his head and listened to Bert's chest. ‘He's breathing, but only just. I'll go and fetch the doctor. Lock the door behind me, Tilly, and don't let no one in but me.'

Left alone with Bert, Tilly rolled up her shawl and laid it behind his head. Patting his hand, she talked to him softly, saying anything that came into her head. It seemed like hours before Clem and the doctor arrived.

‘I'm sorry,' the doctor said, getting to his feet and putting his stethoscope back in his Gladstone bag. ‘There's nothing I can do. It was either another massive stroke or else his heart, I can't tell which, but I'm afraid Mr Tuffin is dead.'

‘He tried to save me,' Tilly said, clutching Clem's hand. ‘He died trying to protect me. Oh, Clem, what will we tell poor Emmie? She really loved your dad and she'll be heartbroken.'

The doctor cleared his throat. ‘I can't do any more tonight and you won't get an undertaker to turn out in this fog.'

‘Thanks, doctor,' Clem said, opening the door. ‘I'll see that my dad is laid out respectful like.'

Nodding his head, the doctor went out into the foggy night.

‘I hope his horse knows the way home,' Clem said grimly.

‘What shall we do with – with Bert? We can't take him home.' Tilly stared nervously down at Bert's dead body. She had hated this man once, hated him with all her heart, but now that was all in the past, like so much of her life, and all she felt was sorrow; sorrow and gratitude for what he had tried to do for her.

‘Wait here, love,' Clem said gently. ‘I'll look after my old man. I'll lay him out peaceful and quiet in the shop next door.'

Taking off her shawl Tilly laid it over Bert, covering his face.

She waited, pacing the floor until Clem returned. As she let him in, Tilly realised that there were tears running down his cheeks and she wrapped her arms round him. ‘Oh, Clem, I'm sorry about your dad. Come and sit down, my dear.' Leading him through to the small room at the back of the shop, she sat down beside him on the narrow truckle bed where he had slept since his return from India. Clem said nothing and his quietness disturbed Tilly more than an outpouring of grief.

‘He never loved me, you know,' Clem said wearily. ‘But I loved him, in spite of everything.'

‘I know you did, Clem, and I'm sure Bert loved you in his way. You're worth ten of Abel.' Fumbling in her pocket for her handkerchief, Tilly pulled it out and the letter from Harriet fell onto the bed between them. She went to retrieve it, but Clem had it first.

He read it slowly, and when he had finished, he raised his eyes to Tilly's face. ‘Are you still in love with him?'

His eyes held hers in a fierce gaze that stripped her naked to her soul. His mouth was so close to her face that she could feel his breath hot and sweet against her cheek. Tilly shook her head.

‘Say it, Tilly. Do you still love Barney?'

‘I don't love him.' As the words tumbled out of her lips Tilly realised that it was true.

Clem released her, turning his head away. ‘But you're still married to him. I have to keep reminding myself of that every single day.'

It was on the tip of her tongue to blurt out the truth, but Tilly knew instinctively that this was not the time or place. When the leader of the Old Stairs gang had his hands round Clem's throat and she thought he might kill him, it had come to her in a blinding flash that it was Clem she really loved. The feeling had crept up on her almost unnoticed, beginning even as far back as the time he had found her on the roadside in Rawalpindi, or maybe it had been the horrific moment when she thought he had died in the train crash. Her blind obsession with Barney had caused her to mistake physical attraction and passion for something deeper and she had paid the price.