East End Angel (20 page)

‘Don’t know about that, Mum,’ Pearl shrugged. ‘Jim plans to go back to the council when the war’s over.’

‘What about you, Ruby?’ Amy looked hopeful. ‘From what you saw of Abingley, you seemed to like it.’

‘Yes, I did.’ Ruby glanced at Pearl. ‘We shall have to see.’

Amy smiled. ‘Will you visit us at Christmas?’

‘Depends,’ Ruby grinned, ‘on our men.’

‘Yes, course. I keep forgetting that you’ve both got responsibilities now. You still feel like my little chicks.’ Amy sighed softly. ‘Well, come on, girls, I mustn’t be late for the bus. I’ve got to get home and see what chaos your father has caused.’

The rain had stopped by the time they got there. The hood of the pram and the apron was wet, but Cynthia slept soundly inside. It was a tearful farewell as Amy waved through the bus window.

‘I’ll miss her,’ said Pearl as they watched the bus turn into West Ferry Road.

‘Me too,’ nodded Ruby as they turned the pram back along the pavement. ‘Would you ever think of moving?’

‘Not if Jim gets his old job back.’

‘As an engineer he’d get a good job in Abingley.’

‘I know, but his mum’s here too.’

Ruby giggled. ‘All the more reason to move.’

Pearl hadn’t visited Mrs Nesbitt yet. She’d enjoyed the company of her mum and each day had flown past. What would the reception be like when she called? Would the sight of Cynth mellow Jim’s mother?

‘Anyway, I like the Smoke, and Jim does too.’

‘You haven’t seen Abingley yet.’

‘No, that’s true.’ They walked in thoughtful silence, until Pearl asked, ‘If Ricky agreed, would you move there?’

Ruby frowned. ‘I haven’t seen enough of the place to know. I only spent a night there and an hour looking at Dad’s allotment. But apparently there’s a market and shops, and although I don’t fancy going to church, Mum said she’s made some good friends.’

‘You sound tempted.’

‘I wouldn’t be if Mum and Dad still lived round the corner.’

On impulse Pearl turned the pram. ‘I know, let’s walk past Roper’s Way and see if they’re doing it up.’

But when they arrived they saw that number twenty-four was still standing, but only just.

‘Oh, Pearl, how awful. There’s just the walls of our house, and look at the Sampsons’. There’s hardly anything left.’

‘They’ve just let them crumble away,’ sighed Pearl, rocking the pram back and forth. ‘I’m only grateful Dad can’t see it. He did so much to that house.’

‘The tiles have gone from the roof. I thought the wardens were supposed to stop thieves.’ Ruby looked up and down the street, but they were the only people there.

‘They can’t watch all the time.’

‘S’pose not.’

‘I can’t see them coming to mend it.’

‘Most of the other houses are boarded up too.’

Ruby sighed. ‘Well, there goes our hope that Mum and Dad could come back.’

‘Yes, looks like it.’ So much had changed since the outbreak of war, Pearl acknowledged sadly. But when she really thought about it, the war was only a marker in time. Before Cynthia, the biggest questions in her life had been how to keep up with the fashion and what kind of hairstyle to wear. But having babies changed everything. It was easy to blame the war, especially the Germans, for spoiling everything. It was a national pastime. She had done it herself many times. But history was full of wars and people went on having them regardless. You just got on with your life and did the best you could. Now she had a child to think of. War or no war, Cynth was her priority, and without Jim, it was up to her to be both mum and dad.

‘You’re very quiet,’ said Ruby as they turned away.

‘I was thinking, we can’t blame the war for everything.’

‘Our house would still be standing if there wasn’t one.’

‘Yes, but it’s given Mum and Dad a fresh start.’

‘What about us?’ Ruby said resentfully. ‘It was our home too.’

‘Yes, but we don’t need it any more. I’ve got a home of my own and you have all your dreams. It’s no use having regrets. We shouldn’t look back, but go forward.’

‘That’s too deep for me.’

‘I’ve just had a baby. I’m allowed to think deep.’

They laughed together and Ruby cast a quick look over her shoulder. ‘Bye, old house.’

‘Tell you what, let’s go to the market and cheer ourselves up,’ Pearl said suddenly, and Ruby nodded.

‘That’s a good idea. Mum left five pounds in the kitty.’

‘And paid for all that coal.’

‘And bought all the groceries.’

‘It was like having Father Christmas early,’ laughed Pearl, linking her arm through Ruby’s.

‘We’d better save it for a rainy day.’

The two girls looked at each other and smiled. They both knew that by the end of the day, that five pounds would be well and truly broken into.

Christmas was three weeks away and still a letter hadn’t arrived from Jim. There hadn’t been many raids, but rumours were circulating about spies. It was said a new invasion plan had been hatched by the Germans.

At Pearl’s flat, the wet and foggy weather had caused the stairs to become slippery and the mould was back in the kitchen. ‘I’ll pop up and see what I can do,’ promised Fitz although he never found time. He was always busy in the shop or storeroom.

Then just before Christmas, a buff-coloured envelope dropped on the mat, addressed in Jim’s larger and familiar handwriting. Pearl opened it with trembling fingers.

Pearl put the letter down. Her imagination had come alive with Jim’s powerful description. Her heart was beating so fast she had to catch her breath. He’d called the others heroes, yet he’d been there, in the minefields, for goodness’ sake! For some time she just sat there, allowing the conflicting emotions to fill her: pride, fear, wonder, heartache and above all relief. Her husband and Cynthia’s father, Jim Nesbitt, her hero of heroes, had come safely through a terrible battle.

It was some minutes before she read on. She wanted to savour every word. It was the first time the censor had allowed any real information to be distributed. She guessed that El Alamein was a long-awaited triumph and the Ministry of Information was eager to spread the good news. Jim ended with a flourish.

Pearl put down the letter for the second time. It was a bitter disappointment, although she told herself she was lucky to have her man alive. He had spent the whole letter telling her what it had been like and in a very proud way. But why couldn’t he be with her and Cynthia? He didn’t even know her name.

She got up and went to the bedroom where Cynthia was lying awake, gurgling softly to herself. Lifting her into her arms, she kissed her soapy-smelling forehead. ‘Daddy sends his love and says he’ll see us soon. Your daddy is a hero and one day I’ll tell you all about what he did. And you’ll be as proud of him as I am.’

Cynthia gurgled contentedly. Pearl walked to the window to part the curtains. She wanted to see all the familiar landmarks: the rooftops and chimneys and houses, the shop below and the cobbles leading down to the corner. Jim’s words had taken her to another world and it was nowhere as safe as this one.

But instead of a clear morning with a sky full of scudding clouds, an eerie mist spread along the gutters. It slithered over the windowsills and spread its tentacles across the glass.

‘Look! It’s a London fog, Cynthia!’ She turned the baby towards the murky yellowness. ‘We’ve got a real pea-souper whilst your dad is somewhere in the desert where there probably ain’t even a nice cold glass of water to drink. But when he comes home . . .
when
he comes home . . . we’ll have a bottle of beer in the larder and one of them Woolton pies in the oven, like your gran showed us how to make. It might not be Christmas, but one day, when he walks up them stairs, it’s going to be the happiest day of our lives. Remember that, sweetheart. We’ve got so much to look forward to. Nothing is going to stop us from being together again.’

Pearl smiled. She was going to keep telling herself and Cynthia that Jim would walk in the door one day. His blue eyes would be shining and he’d make them laugh as he always did.

He
would
come home to them one day. He would!

February 1944

‘Yer can’t go pushing her around in that old tub, missus, she’s bigger than the blooming pram!’

Pearl grinned up at the rag-and-bone man. Under his well-worn cloth cap Percy Flint smiled at her with big brown teeth. Cynthia wriggled excitedly when she saw the towering brown horse that pulled the cart. Pearl unclipped the reins attached to the side of the pram and lifted Cynthia out. She was a big girl for her age but, all the same, her red coat was two sizes too big. Pearl had learned the best way to dress her fast-growing daughter was to buy everything in larger sizes and sew back the cuffs and turn up hems. Even Cynthia’s hand-knitted woollen hat was a size too large, but it pulled down over her sandy-blonde curls and kept them in place. Luckily the sun was shining this morning. Despite the early frost, the day had a warm glow.

Pearl knew Percy was right. Cynthia had outgrown the pram, with its wobbly wheel. On their monthly trips to Villa Road to see Mrs Nesbitt, it weighed heavier and heavier. Not that Mrs Nesbitt was eager to see them. Babies needed all the attention and didn’t sit still or mind their manners. Still, it would be nice to have one of those new pushchairs to zip Cynthia around in.

Pearl lifted Cynthia into her arms to stroke the horse’s mane. Cynthia, who loved all animals, threaded her fingers through the dirty brown mane.

‘I got something on the cart might suit you.’ Percy Flint dropped the reins and disappeared. He returned with a strange-looking article. ‘What about this, then?’

‘What is it?’

‘It’s a chair to push ’er in. Might be a bit old, but look at that lovely workmanship. Bone ’andle and a leather seat. Someone had it made special for a kid, someone with a few bob.’

‘It looks more like one of them Bath chairs.’

‘Not on your nelly. Take a good gander, missus. See, the wheels ain’t bloomin’ great big ones and they’re all in good nick.’

‘Where did it come from?’ Pearl asked suspiciously.

‘From a big house up Poplar. Seeing as I know yer, you can have first refusal.’

The old man took Cynthia in his arms and gave her a carrot. ‘Come on, ducks, let old Barney ’ave a nibble while your mum has a gander.’

Pearl examined the chair and, to her surprise, it wheeled very well. ‘I must admit it pushes better than the big one.’

‘See, yer problem is solved,’ the rag-and-bone dealer said over his shoulder. ‘There’s even a place to put yer stuff.’

Pearl noted the leather bag attached to the back. It was certainly an unusual piece.

‘Let’s put ’er in and give it a try.’ He lowered Cynthia on the seat and pushed it back and forth. ‘See, she likes it.’

Pearl pulled her collar round her ears as she considered the chair. She didn’t have any money to spend as she’d just paid the rent. And although Cynthia seemed to like it, it was not what Pearl had had in mind.

‘Tell yer what I’ll do – you’re a good customer, I’ll do yer a swap.’

‘What for?’

‘The big pram, of course.’

Pearl guessed that Percy already had a customer lined up. But what use was it to her if Cynthia was too big to ride in it? ‘I don’t know . . .’ she hesitated.