East End Angel (6 page)

Pearl felt as though someone had hit her. She didn’t remember Gladys but she could remember her dad reading out a sad article in the newspaper. ‘Wasn’t it an accident?’

‘It was made out to be, for the family’s sake. But it was his fault.’

‘Ricky’s?’

‘Danny came round my house the day he found out she was pregnant. Gladys’s dad thought Danny was responsible, but Gladys admitted who the real culprit was. Had to really, as she and Danny hadn’t done nothing. So her dad and Danny goes round to Winters and he laughs in their faces. Said Gladys was up for it and more fool them and they can’t prove a thing. So they give him a good hiding, don’t they, but a hiding don’t mend the damage he’d done to an innocent kid. Gladys’s parents never said anything because they didn’t want their girl’s name dragged in the mud.’

Pearl shivered. She knew how Gladys must have felt with a baby on its way. But she must have been desperate to jump into the river and end her own life.

‘So you see, there’s no love lost between Winters and me. I don’t know how he had the gall to walk in your parents’ house. He hates my guts and I hate his.’

Pearl listened to Jim’s voice filled with bitterness. ‘But what can I do?’ she asked. ‘Ruby thinks she’s in love.’

‘Then you’ll have to snap her out of it.’

‘Jim, how can I?’

‘You’ve always looked out for her. Can you really stand by and let her make such a mistake?’ He stood up and pushed his hand through his untidy hair. ‘If Ruby gets tangled up with him, she’s not the sensible girl I thought she was. Though it has to be said that most women seem to be fools where he’s concerned. Her heart will be broken, I guarantee it. I want nothing to do with him, Pearl, and I don’t want him near you.’ He held out his hand. ‘Now, give me that kiss we haven’t had.’ He took her in his arms and kissed her. But it wasn’t with the same passion they usually shared. Once again Ricky had come into their lives and poisoned it.

All through July, Pearl listened with dismay to the reports on the wireless. The Russians were fighting bravely and resisting the Germans but what was to become of all those poor people caught in the crossfire? To Pearl it seemed as though everyday a new conflict had been added.

One August evening Jim came home with not one but two newspapers. He was intrigued by world events and would sit and pore over the news. ‘Listen to this,’ he said as his dinner grew cold and he buried his head in the newspaper. ‘Winnie and Roosevelt have met in secret. They’ve made a pact. They ain’t gonna let the Nazis walk all over us any more.’

Pearl sat down at the table. ‘All it says,’ she frowned, tracing the line of text with her finger, ‘is that they met on a fishing trip to discuss the situation . . .’

Jim gave a howl. ‘Read between the lines, love. Take my word, we’ll soon have the Yanks on our side.’

Pearl gazed into her husband’s bright eyes. ‘So, if the Americans are with us, that’s good, isn’t it? They’ll frighten Hitler off.’

‘Not without us, they won’t.’

‘As long as you aren’t involved.’

He took her hand. ‘Pearl, me heart is involved already.’

‘What does that mean?’

‘No bloke worth his salt will stay at home.’

‘Don’t say that!’

‘If things come to a head, I’ve got to put me hand up.’

She froze as tears filled her eyes. ‘Jim, you’re scaring me.’

‘Do you want us to win?’

‘Yes, but I don’t want to lose you.’

‘Who says you’ll lose me?’ He smiled, that lovely white smile that had the power to light up her insides. ‘Anyway, I’m not gone yet.’

She threw her arms round him. ‘I won’t let you go.’

‘Oh, Pearly-girl, I love you so much.’

‘If you love me you wouldn’t be talking like this.’

‘I’ve got to. The war is coming closer.’

‘I know, I know, I hear it all the time. I listen to the girls at work, to where their husbands are, or were, or they don’t know where they are, or they wait for letters, they dread the telegrams, they can’t eat or sleep because of their men and – oh, Jim – I don’t want to be one of them!’ She clutched him tight, pressing her face into his rough collar and smelling the metal smells and dust and oil that were ingrained in his overalls. She loved everything about him. Even though they had their tiffs, it was wonderful making up.

He patted her back. ‘You mean everything to me, sweetheart, and I think you know it. But after this war I want to live in a country that’s free and not ruled by a crazy dictator. A world where you can speak your mind without being chucked in a concentration camp for your beliefs.’

‘But we don’t have them in England!’ Pearl protested weakly.

‘Only because we’re a democracy. We’ve a ting-a-ling on the throne, and freedom of speech. We can vote in every election. We take it all for granted, but it will all disappear if Hitler has his way.’

Pearl twisted out of his grasp. Her heart was thumping. ‘I know all that. I’m as patriotic as you or anyone, but I don’t see the sense in you joining up when you can do as much – if not more – for your country at home.’ She wrung her hands. ‘Seems to me this isn’t about the call-up, it’s about you wanting to put on a uniform like Ricky Winters.’

As soon as the words were out she regretted them. Jim’s lips turned down slowly at the corners.

‘So that’s what you think?’

She hung her head. ‘I didn’t mean it.’

‘But you said it.’

‘Jim—’

Rising to his feet, he snatched up the papers and stuffed them under his arm. Without a word more, he left. She listened to his boots on the stairs. What had she done?

Going to the landing, she looked over. ‘Jim! Jim!’

Fitz Hemsley came out from the storeroom. ‘You after Jim, love?’

‘I – no, not really.’ She didn’t want him to know they’d had a row.

‘Done a bunk, has he?’ Fitz chuckled. ‘Escaped to the pub?’

‘Yes, I should think so.’

‘You two fire-watching tonight?’

‘Yes.’ Though the bombing wasn’t as bad, they still had to do their part.

‘Gwen saved two rashers for you today,’ Fitz shouted up. ‘They’ll do nice for Jim’s tea.’

‘All right. I’ll be down.’

Fitz returned whistling to the storeroom.

Pearl sat at the kitchen table. Why had she mentioned Ricky? Why had she said such a thing? Is that what she truly thought? Was Jim envious, even jealous of Ricky? Oh, she knew he hated him because of Danny, but was there something deeper?

She glanced at the clock and sighed. She’d go down and get the bacon; Jim would enjoy it, although there was nothing to fry it in but marg. Would it taste as good?

But by nine thirty the bacon was burned to a cinder and Jim still wasn’t home. Pearl set off alone for her fire-watching duty. She left Jim a sandwich and a note saying she was sorry.

It was a very warm afternoon in late August, and Pearl thrust open the small window of the Borough Surveyor’s office. But instead of a reviving breeze, only the noise of the traffic came in. The small room was stuffy as three tables had been squeezed in for the staff. Pearl lifted her hands and wiped her fingers on a cloth she took from her drawer. In the air-deprived conditions her speed on the typewriter was slower. Mr Hedley, her boss, had gone early, leaving her and Moira Bush to complete the outstanding paperwork. They were one clerk short and had to finish it all before going. Mr Hedley liked all the contractors, removers and tradesmen’s bills up to date. Head Office required duplicate copies, and the ink from the blue paper had smudged in the heat.

‘I’m melting,’ sighed Pearl, fanning herself with an envelope. ‘Even my blouse is wet.’

‘The council should improve our working conditions,’ nodded Moira, pouncing on Pearl’s unguarded comment. She hit the roller of her typewriter and snapped out the sheet of paper. ‘Don’t know what it must be like for your poor husband, crawling over some of these bomb sites in all the dust and dirt and now this heat as well.’ She tapped the paper she was holding. ‘This sounds like a deathtrap. The roof’s caved in where the incendiary went down the chimney in May. Last month the whole lot collapsed. By a miracle the terrace next door is still standing and people live in it, despite the six-inch crack in the wall from top to bottom. The poor sods mustn’t be able to sleep at night for fear they’ll crumble away too.’ Moira paused for breath. ‘And look at this, they’ve sent your Jim to assess the risks. That’s a laugh. It’s the risk to his life they should be assessing.’ After listening to Moira for the last four years, Pearl merely shrugged. ‘He can take care of himself.’

But Moira ploughed on. ‘All these places still on fire and falling into the wharfs. Not that our engineers take unnecessary risks, of course.’

Pearl looked back at her typewriter.

‘I suppose the worst things are unexploded bombs,’ Moira tried slyly.

Pearl drew the damp hanky across her forehead. The eau-de-Cologne was refreshing. ‘I don’t think about that. I know he’ll come home at the end of the day.’

‘Course you do,’ Moira nodded. ‘Working for the council is better than fighting Jerry.’

Pearl began typing again. Moira would be a nice person if she wasn’t full of woes. And it didn’t help that Pearl was thinking about Jim. Although they were speaking again and, more importantly, cuddling, there was a stony silence on the subject of Ruby and Ricky.

‘A bloke don’t know when he’s well off,’ Moira continued relentlessly, ‘but your Jim does, I’m sure.’

‘We’d better get finished.’

Moira lifted her hand in an arc around the room. ‘Makes you dizzy, don’t it, seeing all this paperwork? Years and years of it. London is falling to bits and the LCC have to stick it back together. We’ve got our own work well and truly cut out, as well as the engineers. Let’s hope the war will be over soon.’

‘If only,’ nodded Pearl, quickly reminding herself she was lucky to have a husband at home and, no matter what the dangers of Jim’s job, they could never be as threatening as those overseas.

‘You all right, Pearl?’

‘Yes.’

‘You seem a bit down. Get your husband to take you to the pub. The beer’s not dried up yet. Be thankful for that.’

Pearl smiled; it was a long time since they’d enjoyed a night out. Their fire-watching duties kept them busy, as did calling in to see Jim’s mum.

‘I’m glad I’m young, free and single,’ said Moira, banging on her typewriter once more. ‘I can enjoy meself.’

But Pearl wasn’t listening. She was wondering if perhaps one evening they might go to the cinema, or treat themselves to a nice tea at Lyons. Perhaps she’d suggest it to Jim after they’d paid a visit to Villa Road tonight.

Pearl walked unhurriedly along Villa Road and felt the curtains twitching on either side. It was considered a respectable area, and, amazingly, most of the houses were undamaged. One or two chimneys had fallen away, and several windows blown out, but on the whole, the Luftwaffe had failed to make much impression. Pearl was smiling as she walked up to the front door, amused at the irony of Jim’s mother’s insistence throughout the Blitz that the German air force were deliberately targeting elderly spinsters and respectable people. If Germany was waging war on Villa Road, it had failed miserably, Pearl decided as she reached up to lift the polished brass knocker.

‘Oh, it’s you.’

Pearl’s smile remained in place. She entered the dark hall, which was never lit, even in the depths of winter. To her left a flight of brown carpeted stairs were lost in the gloom. The parlour door was open and she walked in. No windows were ever opened, even in summer. The crisscross tape on the windows had been sealed not once but twice over and the thick curtains were drawn almost together in anticipation of the blackout.

One small light was burning in the parlour. It spread thinly over the dark green upholstery of the couch and the stout metal guard in the fireplace. Above this was draped a mantel curtain and on the shelf were photographs in ornate frames. Jim as a baby, as a toddler, as a young man, but none of the wedding. The dear and departed Mr Nesbitt, complete with handlebar moustache, frowned out from a sepia impression, a younger Thora Nesbitt standing beside him.

Pearl was shown to the uncomfortable wooden nursing chair, where, still in her coat, she sat down, a ready smile on her face despite the cool reception.

‘I’ve had a very bad few days,’ complained Jim’s mother, unsteadily taking her crocheting from the chair and dabbing her nose with her handkerchief. It was a quite remarkably long nose, Pearl decided, thankful that Jim’s didn’t follow suit. Over her grey head Mrs Nesbitt was wearing some sort of black cap, which made her look very severe. Her clothes were deadly dull, calf-length and shapeless, though Pearl always had the impression they were well-preserved quality.

‘I’m sorry to hear that.’ Pearl shed her coat only because it was so warm in the room, full to the gunwales with heavy, ornate furniture. She didn’t want to give an indication she was uncomfortable, so she kept her perch on the edge of her chair.

‘The doctor tells me I’m overdoing it. Faint spells and such like, with a terrible head. He said I could do with a holiday.’