Eve of the Isle (28 page)

‘You say that because you're a policeman.'

He shook his head. ‘I'm thinking of you.'

She looked away. ‘In that case, I hope you'll understand.'

The awkward silence deepened. Suddenly Charlie found himself blurting, ‘Eve, would you like to come for a drive?' His heart thumped as she hesitated.

‘When?'

‘This Sunday? Dad doesn't need the van in the
morning and we could go up to Hyde Park. The boys can sit in the back if they don't mind looking out the back windows.'

‘They go to Mass on Sunday.'

‘Oh.' He felt disappointed. Was she refusing because she thought he would try to talk her out of her decision? ‘Another time perhaps?'

She smiled. ‘But I'd like to come.'

He sat forward. ‘You would?' He couldn't believe it.

Just then there was a scream from the front room and a loud bang. Charlie jumped to his feet as two women sped into the kitchen. One of them was dressed in a nightgown and he recognized her as Joan Slygo.

‘Good evening,' he said politely.

‘It might be to you,' she cried her eyes looking wildly about her, ‘but it ain't to me. They won't let me go down the pub.'

‘They're not open yet, I'm afraid, Mrs Slygo,' he replied and received a wink from Peg who grabbed hold of her sister and pulled her along the passage.

Charlie smiled at Eve. ‘See you on Sunday, then.'

‘I'll walk out with you.'

In the yard, Charlie glanced up at the tarpaulin. It had turned a muddy brown and was sagging in the middle. ‘So they haven't completed the roof.'

‘No.' Eve looked up at him and smiled. ‘I was rude to the man who was doing it before and he left.'

Once more they laughed together. Charlie had a strange feeling in the pit of his stomach. ‘The offer's still on from
that same man,' he said quietly as a wave of hot colour sped up from his neck. ‘Take care of yourself, Eve.'

Quickly he made his way round the side of the cottage before she had time to change her mind about Sunday. As he drove off, his heart was hammering. He should be concerned that he wasn't doing his professional best to persuade her to follow the lines of the law. But all that had been put to one side when finally he'd found the nerve to ask her to go out.

He laughed aloud as he drove. He'd never felt like this in his life before. Eve was different to any other woman he'd ever known. And this time, he wasn't going to let anyone talk him out of getting to know her. And that included Eve herself.

Eve had butterflies when she went to bed on Saturday night and they were still there on Sunday morning. She was seeing Charlie today. At breakfast, the boys had been reluctant to go to Mass and miss his visit. But she'd told a white lie and said it was only in order to give more information on what had happened to her.

As the day was bright and sunny she wore a green dress that had been all the fashion several years ago. She had bought it second hand as usual from the market. It was the soft shade of green that had attracted Eve. When the boys had gone, she looked in the mirror to study the effect. Her brown hair hung in waves around her shoulders, freed from its plait. As the mirror only
reflected half of her, she hoped the dress had still kept its attractive shape.

‘Eve, your bloke's here,' cried Peg from below.

Eve hurried down. ‘Peg, don't call him that.'

‘Well, what else do I call him?'

Joan appeared wearing Peg's plaid dressing gown. She was quieter this morning, chastened by the exhausting experience of the fight that had taken place between the sisters the day before. Eve had listened gloomily to the recriminations that had come fast and furious. The old grudges, resentments and accusations pouring forth.

‘You sure you'll both be all right?' Eve glanced at them uncertainly. Would they kill each other in her absence?

‘'Course,' nodded Peg glancing at Joan who folded her arms over her chest.

‘Got to be, haven't you?'

‘The boys will be back after Mass,' Eve told them as she slid her bag over her shoulder. ‘Tell them I won't be long.'

‘You enjoy yerself,' said Peg. ‘You ain't missing nothin' here.'

Eve could hear the quarrel start the moment she left. Charlie smiled and opened the van door as she walked towards him, and Eve saw the look of admiration in his deep blue eyes. Despite the racket back in the house, she really did feel like Cinderella climbing into her golden coach.

The whirlwind tour of the city left Eve with a sense of wonder. She wasn't used to sitting on a comfortable leather seat, being chauffeured through the motorized traffic. She was more used to standing on the corners with her baskets watching it all go by. She also felt very feminine in her dress, rather than wearing her traditional flower-selling garb of black skirt, shawl and feathered hat. Though she was proud of her trade, the flower-seller was slowly becoming a figure of the past. London life was changing and single flower-sellers were scarce, their pitches replaced by stands and run by families like the industrious Irish. While the Italians had put their mark firmly on the coffee houses, restaurants and delicatessens, laundries and modern barber shops of Soho. Although Eve was pleased to see that Harrods in the Brompton Road with its distinctive terracotta fascia was still displaying wonderful new fashions in its windows, flanked by the ever stalwart jewellers with their dazzling arrays of merchandise.

As Charlie drove through the streets, Eve leaned forward to see the smartly dressed men alighting from sleek black cars that pulled into the kerb beside the exclusive gentlemen's clubs. These were the types that often bought a buttonhole from her if they had a lady on their arm. Or perhaps a spray of lavender, winking at her discreetly as they walked away.

At Hyde Park, Charlie parked the van in a side road and they strolled on the green to Rotten Row, where the Sunday horseriders slowly passed by. These were
followed by well-groomed horses pulling elegant carriages and guided by top-hatted drivers.

Eve smiled as they leaned together on the railings. ‘Is this where you usually come of a Sunday?' she asked Charlie. He was dressed in Oxford bags and a tweed jacket that hid his broad chest and wide shoulders. He looked very handsome. Why was she noticing so much about him today? Was it because she no longer regarded him as just a policeman?

‘No, as a matter of fact I'm more likely to be found at Regent's Park, at the carthorse meetings.'

‘You prefer carthorses to these animals?'

‘I do have a fondness for older horses,' he admitted. ‘Dad used to take me to Regent's Park as a kid as we had a cart before the van. It was a smart one too, with a painted running board with our name on it, and Dad sometimes let me drive it. Our carthorse got old though and finally went to the old carthorse home in the sky. Dad decided on a van then, easier for his rounds and the stable was converted to a garage.'

‘Your dad must have missed the horse.'

‘Yes, but times change.'

‘Is that when you learned to drive?'

‘Yes, my brothers and me. Even Mum had a go, but gave up when she reversed into a wall.' He laughed again, his blue eyes twinkling. ‘The last time I came here was with a friend.'

‘Oh.' Eve wondered who the lady was but didn't ask.

‘There was a band playing,' Charlie mused as yet
another sleek brown horse trotted by with its well-dressed rider. ‘We sat over there and listened for a while.'

‘Does she like horses as well?'

‘What makes you think it was a she?' He turned and leaned on the rail, gazing into her eyes.

Eve felt embarrassed. ‘Don't all young men of your age have young ladies?'

He laughed. ‘I was with a mate from the Force. His passion is horses, though it's not actually for riding them.'

Eve was pleased it wasn't a girl.

He didn't seem interested in telling her more about his friend or talking about his work. Eve was relieved as she didn't want to talk about something that might remind her of Shadwell.

The sun shone down through the trees to where they were standing, and Eve breathed in hoof-turned earth. The park was very green and leafy and all around people were having a good time.

‘The boys would have liked this,' she mused.

‘Do they always go to church on Sundays?'

‘Their teacher, Sister Mary, says their religious education is important.'

‘Do you think that too?'

‘St Saviour's is a good school and I don't want them to get behind.'

‘Perhaps one Sunday you could make an exception?'

She laughed. ‘We wouldn't be having this conversation if they were with us. It would be, “Charlie, what's this?”
and “Charlie, what's that?” and you'd be dragged all over the place and never given a minute to think.'

‘I'm quite used to that. I've got plenty of nieces and nephews.'

‘Yes, the boys told me.'

He smiled. ‘I'd like you to meet them one day.'

Eve blushed.

He took her hand and placed it over his arm. ‘Let's walk. And since you've warned me that after today, I'm not very likely to have your undivided attention, you can tell me more about yourself, and if you're interested, I'll tell you about me.'

As they walked, Eve told him about her childhood and he listened attentively to her description of her flower-selling days with her Irish-born mother. She went on to explain how her father had died from yellow fever and her mother soon after. When she spoke about Raj and the wonderful husband and father he had been, she felt a little uneasy. Here she was walking with another man, her hand on his arm, enjoying the sweetness of life that Raj had been robbed of.

But when she had finished, he, in turn, told her of his early years as the youngest son of a shopkeeper. When he described his parents, his twin brothers George and Joe and his nieces and nephews his voice was filled with tenderness. But she was surprised at his cool tone when he spoke of his job and Sergeant Moody, the policeman she had met at Bambury Buildings. Then
there was Charlie's friend Robbie Lawrence, who had come here before with Charlie. Eve was eager to hear more about him but Charlie returned to his love of football and the family bakery.

As the morning drew to a close, they returned to the van. Eve enjoyed the sunny ride back to the island, happy that not one word had been spoken about Shadwell.

That experience felt more and more like a dream and she didn't want to think about it now. And neither, it appeared, did Charlie.

Chapter Seventeen

W
hen Eve went to work early on Monday morning she wondered when her flowers would arrive. She stood on the corner of Westferry Road, watching each cart go by.

It was a cloudy day, but as Eve waited her mind drifted back to the day before, bringing a rush of heat to her skin. When they had got back to the cottage, Samuel and Albert were waiting eagerly to see Charlie. To her surprise he produced a brand new football from the back of the van. The twins' eyes had come out on stalks. He'd taken them in the van to Island Gardens and they had spent an hour playing football before he had dropped them back. Their cheeks had been bursting with colour.

Eve was smiling at the memory as a horse and cart pulled up. The toothless driver dressed in a long leather coat and cap let down the back of the cart. ‘These for you, ducks?' He nodded to the bunches of flowers, sprays and posies.

‘Did Queenie send them?'

‘Yeah.'

Eve was delighted with the stock. ‘Will you be delivering tomorrow?'

‘Yeah, should be.'

And with that he slapped the horse's rump with the reins and the cart rumbled off. Eve hardly had time to inspect her stock before her first customers arrived. They were the two girls from the pickle factory on their way to work. ‘Save them roses for me,' said one of the girls getting out her purse and paying. ‘I'll pick them up on me dinner hour.'

Eve sold well throughout the morning. Some of her customers had missed her and others told her that even the Cox Street and Chrisp Street markets couldn't beat her prices. Eve was flushed with success. It was only at tea time that a fearful thought came into her mind. It was at this time of day that Archie had given her that fateful ride to the King Edward Park.

Her last bunch of chrysanthemums sold to an elderly lady going to the cemetery. As Eve prepared to leave, she thought again about the wonderful morning she had shared with Charlie. ‘Can I call round next Sunday?' he had asked.

And the boys, of course, had answered for her.

The following Sunday, the last in May, Eve allowed the boys to miss Mass. She knew Sister Mary would have something to say about it, but she had promised them
a special treat. Instead of going to Mass, Charlie was taking them to the city.

As Eve predicted, the boys kept Charlie busy with questions and seized any opportunity to play football. The parks provided plenty of space and the weather kept warm and dry. As Charlie didn't have to return the van early, they stayed out all day, ending with a picnic at Regent's Park.