Read Sins of the Father Online

Authors: Kitty Neale

Tags: #Fiction, #General

Sins of the Father (26 page)

‘She must have been ill for a long time.’ ‘Yes, she has, and she’s steadily getting worse. Still, as I said, the old girl next door is as good as gold and sits with her every evening while I’m working, but I can’t expect her to do it all day too.’

‘Does…does your mother know what you do?’

‘I don’t think so. Mind you, she may have her suspicions. I pay the rent, buy her medicine, feed us, and she must wonder how I manage to do it when I only go out to work in the evenings. Still, she’s never asked, not even when I go home with the occasional black eye, and I ain’t about to tell her.’

‘And…and you don’t mind doing it?’

‘Well, I can’t say I enjoy it, but I shut my mind until it’s over.’

‘When my husband wanted me, I could only relax with the aid of sherry.’

‘Blimey, I can’t see you as a drinker! Now, me, I got started when the Yanks came over and one of them took me up an alley for a bit of a slap and tickle. Things got out of hand, and, well, it happened. What I didn’t expect was the pound note he shoved in my hand afterwards. Bloody hell, a pound, and all for a bit of loving.’

‘A pound! As much as that?’

‘Yeah, but I never struck that lucky again. Still, with lots of lonely soldiers about who were willing to pay, it seemed so easy. Nowadays I don’t make that much money, but more than I’d get working behind a bar or something. Mind you, I’d earn decent money if I could rent a room and it ain’t much fun doing it up an alley or against a tree.’

‘Why don’t you rent a room?’

‘I can’t stay in one place for long. If I don’t
keep moving about a flaming pimp will get hold of me.’

‘What’s a pimp?’

‘A bastard, a leech who says he’ll look after you, but then takes almost every penny you earn. Once they get hold of you, it’s impossible to get away, and if you think I’ve had a beating, you should see what they do to their girls if they don’t do as they’re told.’ She sank back, her eyes drooping. ‘Gawd, I feel rough.’

Emma knew that Doris still tired easily, but she refused to see a doctor. ‘Just rest and I’ll go to see if my daughter’s awake.’

Quietly leaving the room, Emma went upstairs, Patricia stirring as she went into the room. She was a beautiful child, blonde and blue-eyed like her mother, and though she couldn’t walk yet, she could get around by crawling.

‘Come on, Tinker,’ Emma said, lifting her out of her cot. ‘Let’s get you changed and smartened up.’

The toddler grinned, touching Emma’s cheek. It was strange really. She always smiled when called Tinker, her given name not having the same effect. It didn’t take Emma long to get her bathed, Tinker loving the water, splashing and soaking them both as usual. When she took her downstairs, Doris was dozing, but she opened her eyes as they walked into the room.

‘She’s a doll,’ she said. ‘I wish I could hold her, but it’s too painful.’

Emma put Tinker onto the floor, and though she was unused to strangers, it surprised Emma how quickly she had taken to Doris. She immediately went on all fours, crawling across to the sofa, holding onto the edge to pull herself up on sturdy little legs.

‘Hello, darling,’ Doris said, gently touching her face. ‘I reckon you’ll be walking soon.’

Tinker chuckled as though she understood every word.

Doris said, ‘Please, Emma, take this five bob to buy some grub, and would you do me a favour? If I tell you where I live, will you pop down to my place and let my mum know that I’m all right? Make up some story; tell her I had a little accident or something, but that I’ll be able to come home soon.’

‘Yes, of course I will, and all right, I’ll take the money. I’ll buy some tea, but it’ll only be three ounces a head as usual. It’s about time this rationing ended, but with any luck I’ll be able to get a bit of meat, maybe a belly of pork.’

‘That sounds lovely, and if my mum needs anything, here’s another few bob.’

‘Where do you live?’

‘In Emerson Street. Go down Mysore Road and on the other side of Lavender Hill, you’ll see
Lavender Hill Road. Go to the bottom and cross over, taking the third street on the right…’

Emma struggled to take in the directions. It was a long walk and in an area she was unfamiliar with. ‘But why did you come all this way to…to work?’

‘I told you,’ she said tiredly ‘I have to keep moving around.’

Emma sighed. ‘Well, I’d best get a move on then.’

‘Thanks, love.’

Emma picked Tinker up, put her into the pram and heaved it outside. She decided to go to Emerson Street first, but it was a hot, sultry day and by the time she was walking down Lavender Hill Road, she was wet with perspiration. Her thoughts roamed. Who’d have thought she’d become friends with a prostitute? But now that she was getting to know Doris, her preconceptions had changed. She had looked down on her type in the past, thinking them disgusting, but Doris had changed all that. She liked the woman, although she would never like her occupation, one that not only appalled her, but seemed fraught with danger.

Emma at last turned into Doris’s street, seeing a row of terraced houses with front doors leading straight onto the narrow pavement. Doris’s house looked run down, dilapidated, but when
she tentatively knocked on the door it was opened by a statuesque, elderly lady.

‘Can I have a word with Mrs Hewlett?’ Emma asked. ‘I have news of her daughter.’

‘Well, thank the Lord for that. Is she all right? Gertie’s been going out of her mind with worry.’ Before Emma could summon a reply she added, ‘Do you want to bring that pram inside?’

Emma nodded, manoeuvring the pram into the small room, the woman still not giving her time to speak. ‘I’ll just pop up to tell Gertie you’re here.’

She was soon back and, nodding at Tinker, she said, ‘Go on up. I’ll keep an eye on the nipper.’

Surprisingly, Tinker was smiling at the old lady, obviously liking what she saw. ‘Thank you,’ Emma said.

She climbed the stairs, her face stretching when she saw the old, wizened lady in the bed. This couldn’t be Doris’s mother–she looked more as if she would be her gran. ‘Mrs Hewlett?’

‘Speak up, love, I can’t hear you. Are you here about my Doris?’

Emma approached the bed with her rehearsed story. ‘She’s been in an accident and is in hospital, but don’t worry, it’s nothing serious. She’ll be home in a few days.’

‘Accident! What sort of accident?’

‘She…she fell when the bus she was on braked
sharply. Most of her injuries are minor, a bruised nose, but she also cracked a few ribs.’

‘Blimey, the poor girl. But it ain’t the first time. I reckon she’s a bit accident prone. She’s always bumping into things and bruising her face. I think she might need glasses, but she won’t hear of it. Too vain.’

‘Yes, you could be right,’ Emma said, hiding a smile. So that’s why the old lady didn’t question Doris’s occasional black eye.

‘How do you know my daughter? Do you work at the hospital as a nurse or something?’

Mrs Hewlett’s gaze was intense and Emma felt colour flooding her cheeks. ‘Er…yes, that’s right, but I must go now. Is there anything you need?’

‘No, I’m all right, ducks, but will you give my love to Doris? Tell her that Mrs Knox is taking care of me and she has no need to worry.’

‘Yes, I will. Goodbye, Mrs Hewlett.’

‘Bye, and thanks again for letting me know.’

Before Emma left she thrust a few shillings into Mrs Knox’s hand. ‘That’s to get Mrs Hewlett anything she needs. Doris will be back in a few days.’

‘I hope so, love. I’m fair worn out with going up and down those stairs.’

‘Yes, I am sure you are,’ Emma said, adding a hurried goodbye. Yet as she walked home, she couldn’t help thinking about Doris’s home. She knew what it was to live in poverty, and poor
Mrs Hewlett was stuck in that drab room day in and day out. Oh, she could see that Doris had tried to improve it for her mother, with a pretty spread on the bed, but a musty damp smell pervaded the air. It didn’t seem fair. Doris had told her that her mother had spent years doing early morning cleaning to earn enough money to raise her, and now she was ending her life stuck in that awful place.

By the time Emma had finished her shopping, her hair damp and clinging to her head in the heat, she was glad to get home. Tinker was asleep in her pram and so she left her in the hall, going straight through to the drawing room.

‘Gawd, love, you look a wreck,’ Doris said. ‘Was my mum all right?’

‘Yes, she’s fine, and said to tell you not to worry about her.’

‘Thanks for going–it’s put my mind at rest.’

Emma chuckled. ‘No wonder she doesn’t question you about the occasional black eye. She thinks you bump into things because you need glasses.’

‘Bless her, but it’s a good cover.’

‘Now that I’ve been shopping, I’ll make us a cup of tea.’

‘Luverly.’

It wasn’t long before Emma was carrying a tray through to the drawing room, checking to see that
Tinker was still asleep as she passed. Doris greeted her with a smile.

‘I’ve been thinking while you were out and I might have come up with a solution to your problems.’

‘Well, as long as you’re not suggesting I go on the game, I’m all ears.’

‘Huh, very funny. From what you’ve told me you’re so frigid that you’d turn the poor punters to ice.’

‘I can’t help it, Doris,’ Emma said seriously.

‘I know you can’t, love, but it’s a shame that you’re missing out on something that can be wonderful. Oh, not when you’re on the game, but if you love a man, well, it’s smashing.’ She heaved a sigh. ‘All right, I can see you don’t believe me, but back to my idea. I ain’t been up to looking around, but I know this house is a fair old size. How many rooms have you got?’

Emma counted them off on her fingers. ‘This drawing room, the dining room, study, kitchen, laundry room, scullery and toilet. Upstairs there are seven bedrooms and a bathroom.’

‘Blimey, and there’s just you and Tinker. Well then, why don’t you take in lodgers?’

Emma paused in the act of pouring the tea, her eyes rounding. My God, why hadn’t she thought of that? She’d been selling her lovely things, when all the time the answer to her problem was right
under her nose. ‘Doris, I can’t believe I didn’t think of it myself. Yes, lodgers! How much do you think I could charge?’

Doris pursed her lips. ‘If you offer to cook meals too, I reckon a couple of quid a week.’

Emma did a rapid calculation, realising that that if she found enough lodgers, her money worries would be over in an instant. ‘I’ll start getting the rooms ready in the morning. I won’t be rich, but at least I’ll be able to make ends meet.’

‘If you want riches, you’d have to turn this place into a brothel.’

‘You must be joking. A brothel! Never!’

‘Now then, don’t go all high and mighty on me again. All right, I know it’s a daft idea, but though you’ve turned your nose up, let me tell you that there’s a lot of money to be made from a brothel. With a place this size it could be a little goldmine. You’d make a small fortune.’

‘I don’t care. I wouldn’t even consider it.’

Doris shrugged. ‘If you ever change your mind, let me know. For a fair share in the profits, I’d help you to run it.’

‘I won’t be changing my mind,’ Emma said firmly.

‘Please yourself, but the offer’s there.’

Emma finished pouring the tea, her mind already making plans. Yes, she’d sort out the bedrooms in the morning, and then she’d have
to write out a card to put in the newsagent’s window. As she passed a cup to Doris, her smile was warm. The future looked brighter now, and it was all thanks to her new friend.

31
 

Emma was missing Doris. She had insisted on going home as soon as she could stand up and, though bent in pain, nothing could stop her. They promised to stay in touch, but now over a week had passed and the advertisement in the newsagent’s window hadn’t borne fruit. Emma was growing increasingly worried. If someone didn’t come soon, she’d have to find something else to sell. But what?

It was half-past eight, Tinker was asleep and, dispirited, Emma was gazing out of the window when she saw Dick and Mandy turning into the drive. Smiling, she ran to open the door.

‘Hello, you two, it’s lovely to see you.’

‘We can’t stop long, Em, but as you haven’t been to see me on the stall for a while, I thought we should pop round to see how you’re doing.’

Emma led them through to the drawing room. Not wanting to worry Dick, she said brightly, ‘Oh,
I’m fine, and things are looking up. I’m going to take in lodgers.’

Dick’s eyes widened. ‘Blimey, that’s a good idea and I don’t know why we didn’t think of it before.’

‘Language, Dick,’ Mandy said, her face stern.

‘Yeah, sorry, love,’ he said contritely, then turning to Emma again: ‘And how’s my niece?’

‘She’s fine, but asleep, I’m afraid.’

Dick looked around the room, frowning, ‘It looks even worse than the last time I saw it. You haven’t got anything else to sell, so I’m glad you’ll be taking in lodgers.’

There was another knock on the door and, surprised, Emma hurried to answer it. Was it someone replying to the advert? God, she hoped so.

‘Can I help you?’ she asked, studying the man. He was well dressed in a grey, double-breasted suit, and she noticed that he was carrying a briefcase. His eyes were grey too, and crinkled at the corners when he smiled. A nice smile and a nice face, Emma decided.

When he lifted his trilby hat, Emma saw brown, well-groomed hair and his voice was well modulated when he spoke. ‘I saw your card in the newsagent’s window. Do you still have vacancies?’

‘Oh yes, please, come in,’ Emma welcomed.

‘Thank you.’ He stepped inside and scanned the hall. He then held out his hand.

‘My name is Maurice Derivale. Pleased to meet you.’

Emma flushed as she shook his hand. ‘Mrs Emma Bell,’ she said, wondering what to do next. ‘Er…would you like to see the available rooms?’

‘Yes, please, and I understand that you offer breakfast and evening meals too?’

‘That’s right,’ Emma said. ‘If you’ll just excuse me for a moment…’

Sticking her head around the drawing-room door, she hissed, ‘Someone is here to see about a room.’

Other books

Stolen Kiss From a Prince by Teresa Carpenter
No Coming Back by Keith Houghton
The Wild Queen by Carolyn Meyer
Player by Joanna Blake, Pincushion Press, Shauna Kruse
Twisted Together by Mandoline Creme
Alexis Zorba el griego by Nikos Kazantzakis
Cajun Hot by Nikita Black


readsbookonline.com Copyright 2016 - 2024