Tuppence to Tooley Street (15 page)

Tony looked up at his pal. ‘Biff Bowden told my ole man ter get a few bob down on it next time it runs.’

Danny laughed aloud. ‘It’ll be too pissed ter run. If it gets out o’ the trap it’ll prob’ly fall asleep ’alf way round, or keel over wiv its legs up in the air.’

The dogs were parading for the second race and Danny handed Tony a ten shilling note. ‘Do us a favour, Tone, stick this on number 4 dog. I wanna look out fer Tony Allen.’

Tony Arpino trotted down the steps to the trackside and while he was gone Danny scanned the crowds again. He finally spotted Tony Allen by the track talking to Jack Mason. Then he saw Kathy. She had just walked up to them and he saw her hand Jack Mason something. Danny had forgotten the race completely and his eyes stayed on Kathy as she took her escort’s arm when the bell sounded. The mechanical hare was building up speed and as it passed the traps the dogs shot out and went into the first bend in a bunch. Slowly the number 4 dog gained ground. Danny turned back to Kathy and saw her jumping up and down excitedly. When he looked back at the race he saw that his dog was now being overtaken.

Tony came back as the dogs crossed the finishing line and pulled a face. ‘Oh well. There’s still Shady Lady,’ he said, but without much enthusiasm.

Danny pointed the bookie out to Tony. ‘I’m goin’ down fer a word. Comin’?’

Tony shook his head. ‘You go on, I’ll stop up ’ere. I’ll see yer later.’

Danny Sutton walked slowly down to the trackside and held out his hand. ‘’Ello, Tony, remember me? Me mate Johnny Ross told me ter come an’ see yer.’

Tony Allen shook Danny’s hand. ‘’Course I remember yer. This is Kathy an’ Jack, they’re both good friends o’ mine.’

Danny shook hands with Jack Mason and was unsettled by his limp, clammy grasp. He smiled at Kathy, who nodded back without a flicker of recognition in her dark eyes. Tony Allen studied the card for a while and then looked at Danny. ‘Tell yer what,’ he said, ‘I’m just away ter put a few bob on number 6 dog. We’ll ’ave a drink in the bar after the race, okay?’

Danny nodded. ‘I’ll see yer there then.’

Jack Mason looked at Kathy. ‘I won’t be long. I’m goin’ wiv Tony,’ he said shortly.

Danny watched the bookie walk away with his associate, then he turned to Kathy to find her smiling at him. ‘I didn’t expect ter see you down ’ere,’ she said. ‘’Ave yer bin offered a job?’

Danny nodded. ‘Johnny Ross put the feelers out fer me.’

Kathy put her hand on his arm. Danny felt her warm fingers and he looked into her eyes. He could see that she was anxious. ‘Do yerself a favour, Danny,’ she said seriously, ‘don’t ’ave anyfing ter do wiv Tony Allen or Jack. Don’t ask me why, jus’ say no, an’ walk away while yer still can. You get in wiv that crowd an’ you’ll regret it.’

Danny reached down and took her hand in his. ‘You concerned fer me? I . . .’

Kathy stopped him. ‘Don’t start that again, Danny, I meant what I said. Yes, I’m concerned fer yer. Jus’ take my advice.’

Danny searched her dark eyes. ‘Yer know I still want yer, Kathy, yer must know that.’

‘Don’t, Danny, don’t. Please. It’s too late fer us now, fings’ave changed since then. It’s too late.’

Danny squeezed her hand until she winced. ‘Look, Kathy, it’s not too late. You’re not married to ’im. Come out wiv me termorrer. I’ll tell ’im if yer like.’

Kathy shook her head and tears came into her eyes. ‘It is too late, Danny. I ’ad a big row wiv me dad. ’E chucked me out. I’m livin’ wiv Jack now.’

‘Christ! What did ’e do that for?’

Kathy looked down at her feet. ‘I’m ’avin’ a baby. It’s Jack’s. When I told me dad ’e went mad. Mum tried ter stop ’im goin’ fer me an’ she got a good ’idin’ too.’

Her words stunned him. It felt as though icy fingers had suddenly gripped his insides. Feelings of anger and pity rose up in Danny’s breast as he stared in despair at the slim girl in front of him.

‘Yer mean yer ole man gave yer a pastin’, wiv you ’avin’ a baby an’ all?’

Kathy gave him a weak smile. ‘Yer know ’ow my farver gets when ’e’s ’ad a drink. ’E gave me ten minutes ter pack an’ get out. I went roun’ ter Jack’s place, I ’ad to. Anyway, Jack’s bin wantin’ me ter move in wiv ’im fer a while now.’

Danny shook his head sadly. ‘Why didn’t yer come roun’ ter see me? I’d ’ave ’elped yer, you know I would.’

Kathy blinked back her tears. She looked into his worried eyes and felt a strong urge to collapse into his arms, but she breathed out deeply and pulled her hand away from his. ‘Be sensible, Danny,’ she said. ‘I’m ’avin’ ’is baby, I’m sleepin’ wiv’im. ’Ow could I possibly come runnin’ round ter your place an’ say, “take me in, I’ve bin chucked out ’cos I’m pregnant”? It’s not your baby.’

‘I wish it was, I wish you’d ’ave told me before. I wouldn’t’ave took advantage.’

Kathy smiled at him. ‘Don’t be silly, you didn’t take advantage. I wanted it as much as you. Yer know that, don’t yer?’

Danny’s mouth twitched. ‘Kathy, come with me, the baby don’t make no difference. Leave ’im. ’E’ll be no good ter yer.’

‘Don’t, Danny. Please.’

He gazed round the stadium in dismay. Kathy saw a hollowness in his eyes and she said anxiously, ‘You’d better go now, luv. Please. They’ll be back soon. I’ll see yer in the bar later.’

The third race was about to begin. Danny walked back morosely to his friend and they stood waiting for the off. Tony sensed that there was something wrong with his pal but he refrained from asking questions. The bell sounded and five dogs bounded from the traps, but one dog had not moved.

‘I told yer she’d be pissed, didn’t I?’ Danny shouted.

Tony grabbed his pal’s arm. ‘It ain’t Shady! Look, she’s in the lead!’

Shady was dashing round the track, to the roar of the punters. The rest of the field was left far behind as Shady Lady increased her lead. On the final straight she was ten lengths clear, and she romped home to the cheers of the surprised spectators. The bookmakers, who had expected a run on the money if the hot favourite had won, were openly smiling.

‘Bloody ’ell! It done it! It bloody well done it! She won!’ Tony shouted.

Danny looked at him. ‘You didn’t back it, did yer?’

Tony Arpino was beaming. ‘Yep, I ’ad a dollar on the nose! Jus’ fer luck.’

The numbers tumbled about on the totaliser and when they settled the crowd gasped. The forecast was over ten pounds. Tony Arpino rubbed his hands together with glee. He had backed Shady Lady at one hundred to six.

The bar at the rear of the stadium was packed. Danny stood facing Tony Allen in one corner and Jack Mason was with Kathy some way off, talking to Johnny Ross, who had just walked in. Danny was listening to the bookie.

‘I’ve ’ad a word wiv Bernie Marsh,’ Tony Allen said. ‘’E told me yer was ter be trusted. That’s good enough fer me. ’E told me yer run a good book fer ’im. Yer see, I’ve got a few little earners goin’. Play yer cards right an’ I might be able ter put a few bob your way. Fer a start yer can take the bets on me Clink Lane pitch.’

Danny nodded. ‘Is it the usual set up?’

‘Yeah, the rozzers won’t worry yer. I pay their guv’nor orf each week. When they’ve gotta make a pinch they let me know an’ I get somebody ter do the honours. It works the same as it did wiv Bernie. We put a couple o’ bets in the geezer’s pocket an’ ’e makes sure ’e gets caught. We pay the fine an’ everybody’s ’appy, includin’ the coppers.’

Danny had already made up his mind. He gave Kathy a furtive glance and then looked at Tony Allen. ‘When do I start?’

‘Next Monday. I’ll put one o’ the lads wiv yer fer a few days, until the punters get ter know yer. You’ll be all right, I’ll do the business at the Labour Exchange, I know the geezer there. ’E’ll give us yer green card fer me ter sign. For all intents an’ purposes, yer workin’ as a bookkeeper’s clerk. That okay?’

Danny nodded. ‘Fanks, Tony. I know the game, yer can count on me ter do the business.’

Tony Allen smiled and downed his Scotch. ‘You’ll be all right. Be straight wiv me an’ I’ll look after you.’ He reached into his pocket and drew out a thick wad of money. He handed Danny a five pound note. ‘’Ere. Take this on account an’ enjoy yerself. Yer can pay me back when yer flush.’

Danny tried to refuse but the bookie pushed the white note into his hand. ‘You’ll find out I look after my boys if they’re straight. Go on, take it.’

Early that evening Frank Sutton came home to number 26 Dawson Street and walked through the front door without stumbling over the coconut mat that was spread out along the length of the passage. He went out into the scullery and gave Alice a peck on the cheek before rolling up his sleeves and scrubbing his hands with a stiff brush. ‘Is Danny out?’ he asked, taking a towel from the back of the door.

Alice nodded. ‘’E wasn’t in five minutes. Gone on some business, so ’e said.’

‘I thought I caught sight of ’im goin’ under the arch as I come in,’ her husband said. ‘What’s fer tea, Alice?’

‘Boiled bacon an’ pease puddin’. I know it’s yer favourite. Now get in there an’ get yer feet under the table. I wanna get cleared up early ternight, I’m goin’ round ter see Maggie. The kids ’ave gone down wiv the measles.’

Lucy and Connie were both sitting in the small parlour when their father walked in. Lucy was reading and Connie was sitting on an upright chair, one knee drawn up under her chin.

‘Bloody ’ell, what’s that yer usin’?’ Frank exclaimed, pulling a face.

Connie grinned. ‘It’s nail varnish, Dad, I’m makin’ meself pretty.’

Lucy looked up quickly and put her head down again into her book. Frank sat himself at the table and picked up a knife and fork. Connie gave him a cheeky smile. ‘You’re ’ome early, Dad.’

Her father fixed her with a telling look as Alice put his tea in front of him and he began to eat in a deliberately sober manner. Connie winked at her mother who grinned back and walked out of the parlour with her head in the air. Frank ate his tea in silence and when he had scraped the last morsel from his plate he leant back in his chair and sighed contentedly. Lucy had gone to help her mother with the dishes and Connie sat with both feet outstretched and her arms behind her head. Frank hooked his thumbs through his braces and burped loudly.

‘’Ow’s yer young man, Con? You ’eard from ’im yet?’

‘Give ’im a chance, Dad. ’E only went back on Monday night. ’E’s prob’ly gone straight ter sea. ’E won’t ’ave much time ter write any letters.’

Frank nodded. ‘Don’t s’pose ’e will, girl. What boat is ’e on?’

Connie raised her hands in mock horror. ‘Yer musn’t call’em boats, Dad, they’re ships. Jimmy’s on a destroyer. ’E’s bin on convoy duties.’

‘’E’s doin’ a good job, Connie. It can’t be very nice out there on the water. Mind you, though,’ Frank went on, ‘we’ve always relied on people like your young man. It’s in our blood, the sea. We’re an island. Wivout ships we’re done for, an’ wivout a navy we’d be a plum pickin’ fer every little dictator that fancied’avin’ a go at us.’

Connie looked at her father with a saucy grin. ‘Look at Sir Francis Drake. ’E sorted ’em out, didn’t ’e?’

Frank felt he was wasting his time trying to talk seriously to his daughter this evening. ‘Don’t sit there mockin’ yer ole dad, go an’ get us a cuppa.’

The clock struck ten. Connie had gone up to her room, and Alice had just returned from visiting Maggie’s children. She was sitting in the easy chair listening to the wireless. Frank shifted his position yet again and stretched. ‘What’s our lad up to then, Muvver?’ he asked suddenly.

Alice folded her arms as she usually did when she had something to say. ‘I dunno, Frank, but that Johnny Ross was round ’ere on Monday. ’E was eager ter see our Danny. I don’t trust ’im, an’ ’e’s in wiv a bad lot. I ’ope Danny don’t get too much involved wiv that crowd.’

Frank looked into the empty hearth. ‘Yer can’t wipe ’is nose now, Muvver. After all, ’e’s over twenty–one. ’E’s gotta make ’is own decisions.’

‘I know that, Frank, but yer can’t ’elp worryin’, can yer?’

‘No yer can’t,’ Frank said, straightening up in his chair. ‘An’ yer can’t ’elp gettin’ firsty, neivver. ’Ow’s about me an’ you poppin’ up The Globe fer a quiet drink?’

Alice tried not to look too eager. ‘Oh, all right then,’ she said. ‘’Ang on, I’ll get me coat.’

Early on Saturday morning the postman delivered two letters to number 26. Danny was still fast asleep, but Connie was up and about. She took the letters out into the scullery and raised her eyebrows when she spotted a Dover postmark on the letter addressed to Danny. The other letter was for Lucy, but she had already left for work. Connie’s sister was employed as a secretary to the manager of a manufacturing tailors who had their offices in Tower Bridge Road. Since the outbreak of war her firm had been working on a government contract to supply uniforms to the armed forces, and now everyone was working regular overtime.

Connie took Danny’s letter up to his room with a cup of tea and shook him gently. Danny mumbled something unintelligible and pulled the clothes over his head. Connie shook him again without success and left the letter with his tea on the chair beside his bed. Alice had gone to the market and had left Connie the washing to peg out in the backyard. Outside the sun was shining and children’s voices sounded in the street. Presently she heard the cry of the rag-and-bone man as he pushed his squeaking barrow into the turning. She went in and picked up the rag bag lying at the foot of the stairs and went to the front door to await Old Jerry.