Custard Tarts and Broken Hearts (25 page)

She also tried not to notice how Alice’s naturally bird-like frame seemed to be diminishing even further. Her only consolation came from the two sturdy little boys, healthy and clean, and still each with a pair of boots with soles intact. It was the best she could do, but she burned to do better for them.

The only bright spot on the horizon was Lily’s wedding and her friend had talked of nothing else for months. Although her parents could not afford to contribute much, Jock had a good job working in his father’s chandlery shop and he had told Lily she was to have everything just as she wanted it.

‘He’s been so thoughtful about everything, Nell. I can’t believe my luck,’ she confided to Nellie one dinner time as they sat on a wall outside the factory. ‘We’re putting away every penny, and his father’s giving us some as well. We should have enough by next year, but Jock wants it sooner. He says there’s a war coming and gawd knows where we’ll all be this time next year.’

There had been so much talk of war over the past few years that Nellie had ceased to take it seriously. ‘War? We’ve heard it all before.’

‘Well, he says this time it’s coming and he wants us married first.’ She leaned in conspiratorially and whispered, ‘He don’t want to die a virgin, but I’ve told him I don’t want to die a whore, so he’s to keep Tommy out!’

Nellie blushed crimson. ‘Lily!’

‘Well, you’ve got to put them straight, Nell, otherwise they’ll take advantage, no matter how nice a feller. Anyway, talking of nice fellers, I’ve told him that if he’s having Sam as best man, then I’ve got to have my best friend for bridesmaid!’ She beamed at Nellie. But when the expected excitement was not forthcoming, her face dropped. ‘Don’t you want to?’ she asked. Nellie picked at a thread in her already threadbare skirt. Her face was pale and drawn and her hands red raw.

‘’Course I want to,’ she said quietly. ‘You’re my best friend. But, Lil, I could never afford a good enough dress and I’m certainly not going to show you up, coming to your wedding in this old tat!’ She scrunched up the skirt in her fist and slumped even lower on the wall.

‘Oh, Nellie, don’t worry about that. Jock’s paying for the dresses! Your’n and mine!’

Nellie was shaking her head vigorously, but Lily ignored her. ‘You can’t say no because I’ve already bought the material!’

Nellie looked up at her friend. ‘Are you telling me a pork pie, Lily Bosher?’

‘Antique lace for me and satin for you!’ She scooped Nellie off the wall and swung her round in her excitement, but after one spin she stopped abruptly with her hands encircling her friend’s waist and squeezed hard.

‘Get off!’ yelled Nellie playfully, but not before Lily had registered her lightness and lack of flesh.

‘Good gawd, Nellie, you’re fadin’ away. There’s nothing of you!’

Nellie blushed and her friend became more serious.

‘Nell, you’ve got to eat more. You can’t keep feeding up those two boys and starving yourself!’

‘Tell the truth, Lil, I’ve got no choice. I just can’t make enough to keep us – I’m always three bloody bob short!’

She put her face in her hands and had no strength to stop the sobs that suddenly racked her. Lily put her arms round her friend.

‘Shhh, Nell, this is not like you. Where’s your fighting irons? Listen, we’ll find a way, even if you all have to come and live with me and Jock above the shop. You’re not going into no workhouse.’

Nellie let herself rest on Lily’s shoulder for a moment. When the hooter went for the afternoon shift the girls joined the other women returning through the factory gates. They held hands as they went and Nellie, though unconvinced by her optimism, was grateful at least for Lily’s strong grip and her even stronger friendship.

In the following days, Lily launched an undisguised campaign to keep Nellie’s spirits up, making her laugh with rude comments behind Albert’s back and doing more than her share of the heavy work of loading the trolley. She even tried to pay for her dinner one day at the coffee shop, which Nellie refused, insisting she wasn’t a charity case just yet.

Then, later that week, Lily suggested they take Bobby and Freddie for an outing to Southwark Park. ‘You all need to get out of that house and do something different!’ she’d insisted, and Nellie hadn’t taken much convincing. It was free and the boys could run around in the open air all day. The warming summer was making them restless. She could feel a mutiny coming; her brothers wouldn’t want to be making matchboxes all summer long. But when she met Lily at the park gates on Sunday, Nellie was surprised to see she was not alone.

‘You don’t mind me bringing my chap, do you, Nell?’ Lily said, laughingly grabbing Jock’s arm. ‘And we thought this little lot could do with an outing too!’

Sam, who was walking behind them, alongside Matty and Charlie, smiled at Nellie. The Gilbie children immediately ran ahead, with Nellie’s brothers. ‘We’re going to the pond!’ they called back, and Alice followed to make sure none of them fell in.

The four friends walked together behind them and as they strolled along the wide avenue of oak trees, Nellie realized she was glad of Sam’s presence. Since their talk about her promise to Lizzie, she had been shy of seeking him out. She would chat to him as he left the stables, but time off was so rare she had little chance to be in his company. They walked past the bandstand and she thought back to when he had carried her out of the stampede of dockers and soldiers; she had been so ungrateful, feeling only disappointment that it wasn’t Ted. Now, walking by his side on that very spot, she realized, given the choice, there was no one else she’d rather be with.

Jock had brought a blanket and spread it beneath some trees in view of the pond. Lily and Nellie sat on the blanket, while Jock and Sam lounged on either side. It seemed like heaven to Nellie to be sitting there, warmed by the early summer sun, watching the children play around the pond. Alice was helping them make boats from odd twigs and bits of reed, and their splashing and laughter sounded to Nellie like the lost music of childhood. Sun dappled through the trees where she sat and painted her faded cotton skirt with splashes of lemon light. She let out a long sigh and leaned back on her hands. Sam was lying on one elbow next to her.

‘What was that for?’ he asked.

‘Oh, it’s just nice to see them running around, being kids.’

‘I know. Our Matty’s taken on most of the cleaning and laundry now. Poor little mite, she can hardly reach the scrubbing board, she has to stand on a crate! Charlie’s got his jobs, but he won’t help with the laundry. Says it’s women’s work, the little bugger.’

Nellie smiled ruefully. ‘You do your best, Sam, it’s all we can do.’

Lily was rooting around in a large bag. Finally, she lifted out a huge wrapped parcel of jam sandwiches and some bottles of ginger beer.

‘Grub!’ she declared triumphantly. ‘Come on, Jock, let’s go and feed the hungry hordes!’ She dragged him up and Sam and Nellie laughed, watching her dole out the sandwiches with strict fairness. ‘Hang on, Freddie, you gannet,’ Lily shouted. ‘You took two, give one back!’

Sam sipped from a bottle of beer, while they looked on at the children, sitting with their legs dangling over the edge of the pond, each of them now in a competition to cram as large a slab of bread into their mouth as possible.

‘Anyone would think they’re starving!’ Sam joked.

For some reason this seemed like a criticism to Nellie, who responded sharply. ‘Well, they’re not, they’re just greedy little gits.’ She called over to her brothers, ‘You two, remember your manners. It’s not a race, you know!’

Sam smiled. ‘Oh, they’re just growing boys.’ He looked across at her warily. ‘I didn’t mean anything by it, Nell. You’re a bit touchy.’

But Sam had hit on the very subject that did make her feel defensive. It was embarrassing enough to be on the breadline, without her brothers acting as though she didn’t put food on the table for them.

‘Listen, Nell, don’t take this the wrong way, but if you should need an extra few bob at any time—’

‘I’m not taking handouts!’ she cut him off.

‘Give us a chance! I wasn’t suggesting a handout. I just heard that the Labour Institute is looking for delivery boys for the Co-op groceries, and I thought, well, you’ve got the cart on the penny-farthing and why not a delivery
girl
?’

‘Oh!’ This stopped Nellie in her tracks. She had to admit it was a tempting idea. ‘But when would I find the time?’

‘You could do the Saturday afternoon round, if you think you’d be up to it?’

‘’Course I’d be up to it!’ She wasn’t going to admit how exhausted she was feeling. ‘But do you think they’d take me on?’

‘Well, I was down there last week and I did mention it to Frank, the Co-op manager.’ He paused, as if fearing a prickly reaction. When it didn’t come, he went on. ‘Anyway, he said he knew you were reliable, from when you volunteered during the strike, so I reckon you’ve got a good chance… another three bob a week wouldn’t go amiss, eh?’

Finally, Nellie smiled. Three bob: how did he know the exact amount she needed? ‘Has Lily been talking to you, by any chance?’

He dipped his head and smiled into his beer.

The Labour Institute Co-op was a popular way of saving money on foodstuffs. Most people could only afford to buy tea, sugar and other staples in the smallest of quantities, which meant they paid a high premium from the corner shop. But the Co-op bought in bulk and passed the savings on to their members, a simple way to help them evade one of the traps of poverty. On Monday evening, Nellie presented herself at the Labour Institute and was sent round to the back yard. She recognized the Co-op manager from the strike days, a rather serious-looking, youngish man with round glasses and thinning fair hair. The Co-op had been his brainchild and she remembered at the time thinking he worked as hard as any docker, dashing about all day, stacking crates and organizing deliveries.

‘Frank Morgan,’ he introduced himself, and shook her hand. ‘You must be Nellie. Sam Gilbie said you might be interested.’

Nellie liked him immediately, for the way he listened carefully, as she told him the hours she could manage and described her unusual form of transport.

‘A penny-farthing! And why not? If the bogey cart works as well as you say, then it’s better than the handcarts some of our boys use. You might raise some eyebrows, but so long as the job gets done, I’m not fussed about that.’

So it was that Nellie became a familiar sight flying through the streets of Bermondsey on the old penny-farthing, with a cartload of groceries swinging out behind her and an extra three shillings a week in her pocket.

Lily’s wedding day had finally been set for late September. In the previous weeks, every spare hour of Nellie’s had been commandeered by her friend. They went to the dressmaker to have fittings for their dresses, and to the Mayflower pub on the river where the wedding breakfast was to be held, Lily seeming to need her advice on everything from the sandwiches to the cake. One evening, after returning from London Bridge with her matchbox delivery, she came upon Lily knocking at her door. Scooting to a halt, she wearily dismounted the penny-farthing.

‘Come on, Nell,’ Lily said impatiently. ‘I need you to come and help me pick out the carriage.’

‘Pick out the carriage! What, at this time of night? It’s nearly nine o’clock! Anyway, where’s Jock when he’s needed?’

Lily looked hurt and immediately Nellie regretted her irritable jibe at Jock.

‘He does what he can to help me, but his father’s such a slave driver he’s working all the hours God sends in that shop. I wouldn’t ask, only you are me best friend …’

‘Oh, Lil, don’t mind me, I’m just tired. ’Course I’ll help you pick out the carriage. Just let me put this away,’ she said, patting the saddle of the bike. Lily followed her as she trudged round to the back gate. After stowing the penny-farthing and checking on Alice and the boys, they set off briskly through the darkening streets.

‘I’m sorry to drag you out, Nell,’ Lily said apologetically. ‘I know Jock’s not been able to help much… looks like the most he’s doing is picking out his suit!’

Nellie nodded sympathetically. ‘That’s men, but you could do a lot worse than him. At least he’s not out pissing money up the wall, like some!’

Lily seemed cheered by this faint praise of Jock and Nellie suddenly realized that it mattered to her friend what she thought of him. Perhaps it was this glimpse of her usually confident friend’s vulnerability that prompted Nellie to ask, ‘Do you really love him, Lil?’

Her friend considered the question silently, before answering.

‘He’s a decent bloke and I know he’ll be good to me.’ Looking sharply at Nellie, she went on, ‘There’s all different sorts of love, Nell. I might not be all moon-eyed over him, like you was with our Ted, but, yes, I do love him.’

Nellie felt her heart contract. Suddenly the image of Ted striding towards her, with his bright hair falling across his forehead, came back to her.

‘Sometimes, when I was with Ted, I couldn’t even breathe properly, like I was holding my breath, waiting for something to happen.’ Her voice was almost a whisper.

‘What?’ her friend asked,

Nellie shook her head sadly. ‘I think I was waiting for him to leave me. I always thought he would because he didn’t really love me back, Lil.’

‘Oh, you got that wrong, Nell. Give me credit for knowing something about me own brother. I’ve seen him with plenty of girls, but he was different with you.’

‘Well, then, he didn’t love me enough, did he? ’Cause in the end, he sodded off, just like I expected he would!’

They were silent for a while, weaving their way through the back streets towards the carriage hire yard in Grange Road.

‘I thought you’d got over him,’ Lily said suddenly. She looked so sad that Nellie drew her in reassuringly and linked arms as they walked.

‘Oh, I have, I don’t think about him hardly at all now. It’s just with the wedding… it’s bound to bring up old feelings.’

‘Nellie, I wish you could find someone as decent as Jock! I know I shouldn’t say it, but Sam Gilbie is twice the man my brother will ever be. You do know that, don’t you?’