The Lights of London (31 page)

‘Only
a shilling?’

‘We’ll find the money for it somehow.

‘How?’

‘I know you used to earn more, Tibs, but soon, you see, we’ll be earning plenty. We’re going to that ball thing, remember. And we’ve got half that money already. And that’s only the first of it.’ She threw up her hands in exasperation. ‘Tibs, listen to me. I know you’re worried about Albert, but Jack says it’ll be all right and I trust him. He’ll look after us. Come on, we’ll go back and get her.’

‘You don’t understand. You don’t know what he’s like.’ Tibs’s chin dropped, and she spoke as if she were remembering something far away. ‘I don’t understand how she even survived, the way I was living. So many babies die. You hear about it all the time. Girls, not much more than kids themselves, carrying them for nine months, and then … Nothing. Maybe it would have been better if …’

Kitty grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her. ‘Don’t, Tibs. Don’t ever say that. Remember how you saved me. How you made me see it was better to be alive.’

Tibs’s eyes were misted with tears. ‘She’s gonna be old enough to go to school in a year or so. And, d’you know what, I’m gonna find the money for her. She’s gonna do it properly. Have every chance. Every chance I can give her. She’s gonna have books, and pretty clothes, and shoes, and …’

‘She’ll have all of that. And more. You see. I know she will. You’ll make it all happen for her.’

‘How? How can I make it happen? I’m always saying how I’m gonna take her to the country one day. Let her smell the flowers and see the hills and the grass. Even thought about taking her hopping. But I know Albert
would find out and stop me. I can’t even take her to the sodding park in case he sees me.’

‘We’ll take her to the park,’ Kitty said, folding her arms around Tibs and holding her close. ‘I promise we will. Please, Tibs, don’t worry. I told you, Jack’ll look after us.’

‘I wish I could believe it.’ She began to sob as though her heart would break. ‘I wish Albert would drop dead and leave us alone.’

Just then, a man stopped beside them. He winked at Kitty, looking her up and down. ‘Doing business, are you?’

Kitty shook her head at him in disgust. ‘Why don’t you bugger off?’ she yelled into his face. ‘We’re decent girls, if you don’t mind.’

The man laughed as though Kitty had cracked the funniest joke he’d ever heard. ‘Oooh! Fussy are you? You skinny-arsed bitch.’ Then he leaned closer. ‘Here, don’t I know you? Haven’t I seen you two? I know, you’re them, what is it? Sugar and Spice. No, wait, I’ve got it, Sweet and …’

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ Kitty said, hurriedly dragging Tibs away. ‘Come on, let’s get you home and don’t worry, I’ll work out what to do next.’

Albert, who was lurking in a nearby doorway watching them, smiled nastily to himself. So, she was keeping the kid in Frederick Street. What a dump.

Marie had been gone from Jack’s room for barely ten minutes when there was a knock on his door.

Jack, who had flopped, fully dressed, back on to his bed and had been trying to get his thoughts together, rolled his eyes wearily and hauled himself to his feet. ‘Please, Marie,’ he muttered to himself, ‘don’t drag it out. I’m sorry, but it’s bad enough without all this.’ He
pulled open the door, ready to spin Marie some sort of line to get rid of her, but his mouth fell open.

It wasn’t Marie. It was Tess.
His
Tess. Tess from back home.

Albert stepped out of the doorway, slumped against the wall and lit a cigarette. He drew the smoke deep into his lungs and watched the girls rushing off in the direction of Rosemary Lane.

Silly tart. Fancy thinking she could keep anything from him once he’d set his mind on it. Maybe if she hadn’t been so cocky with him he’d have been a bit nicer to her.

He knew one thing: she’d be wishing she had been nicer to him once he got hold of her. He was going to wipe the smile right off that pretty little dimple-cheeked face of hers for good.

He laughed out loud at the thought and ground the finished butt hard under the steel-rimmed heel of his boot.

The sound of approaching footsteps had Albert on the alert. He levered himself away from the wall and looked up and down the narrow street. He didn’t fancy being spotted by another pimp, who might start asking difficult questions about what he was doing hanging around someone else’s patch – someone who might be carrying a cosh, or worse, someone who might have a pistol tucked inside his waistband.

He couldn’t see anyone, which was a relief, he’d never liked explaining himself, especially when there might be pain involved.

Albert relaxed and took out another cigarette; he was enjoying himself, savouring the image of Tibs begging him to stop, then imploring him to finish her off.

He had just flicked the spent match into the gutter
when a hand touched him lightly on the shoulder. He spun round, his eyes wide. ‘What the hell …’

‘Albert Symes?’ the person asked.

It wasn’t really a question.

The next morning Archie was, as usual, out the back, getting on with his work, when he heard a sound coming from the yard next door. He looked over the fence and smiled. It was Tibs, exactly who he’d been hoping to see.

He watched her for a moment, thinking how lovely but serious she looked, as she concentrated on pegging out the washing, and felt a silly, but pleasing, thrill of achievement because she was using the line that he, Archie Hutchinson, had strung up for her. ‘Morning, Tibs,’ he said at last.

She looked up, nodded and offered him a thin, strained smile.

‘Jack said you went out with Kitty yesterday. Have a nice time, did you?’

Tibs jumped as if she’d been wired up to the electric light and only just saved the wet petticoat she was holding from falling on to the dusty flagstones.

‘Jack said we went out, did he?’ She sounded flustered. ‘Well, we didn’t. We just went for a walk. All right?’

Archie held up his good arm in surrender. ‘I’m sorry, Tibs. I didn’t mean to pry or nothing.’

‘No, Arch,
I’m
sorry. Things have just been a bit, you know …’ She shrugged.

Archie nodded. ‘You must be shocked, I suppose. By that … ’ How could he put it nicely? ‘By that
friend
of yours getting done in like that.’

‘Me? Upset over Lily?’ Tibs’s eyes were like saucers. ‘I don’t wanna sound hard, Arch, and I wouldn’t wish me worst enemy to go the way they’re saying she went, but
I can’t honestly say I’m that sorry she ain’t around any more. When you see how some have to suffer, that bitch was well down my list of who I spend me time worrying about.’ She rammed the peg down hard over the wet petticoat and picked up a blouse, shaking out the surplus water at arm’s length. ‘Yes, Arch, there’s plenty more deserving of me sympathy than her.’

‘Like little Flora having to come all the way over here to sell her watercress?’

‘Yeah, just like her.’ Tibs nibbled at her lips, as images of the scrawny, frightened child, and of her own little Polly, swam around in her tear-blurred vision. She wouldn’t cry again. She wouldn’t. It was all she seemed to bloody do lately.

Archie ran his fingers through his hair. He hadn’t got off to a very good start. How was he going to say this so it came out right? ‘It don’t sound like you’ve heard the other news, eh?’

‘What’s that then?’ She took a peg off the line and gripped it in her teeth.

Archie took a deep breath. ‘They reckon there must be some sort of, er, maniac or something on the loose.’

‘Maniac?’ She threw the wet blouse to the ground and rushed to the fence. ‘Archie, where are you talking about? He’s not hurt …’ How could she say the words?

‘I’m sorry, Tibs, I didn’t mean to frighten you …’

‘
What? Just tell me
’

‘It was over by Frederick Street.’

Tibs felt her world falling about her, then spinning away, out of control. Surely Albert hadn’t found out that Polly was with Mrs Bowdall. He couldn’t have. He just couldn’t. Because if he had, then … Aw, no. Please God, no. ‘Archie. Tell me. Please.’

‘It’s that Albert Symes.’

Her blood froze. ‘Archie. What’s he done?’

‘He ain’t done nothing.’

‘So what …’

‘One of the brides over there. She found him. In an alley, he was. Dead as a doornail.’

‘Dead?’

‘Cut to ribbons and his throat slit. Just like Lily Perkins.’

Tibs took a step back.

‘Like you were saying, I know it’s a terrible way to go. But I thought, well, after Jack mentioning you being bothered by him and what you said about him yesterday I thought you’d be glad he was out of the way. You are glad, aren’t you, Tibs? Tibs?’

Tibs looked at him and blinked. She
had
said Albert’s name to Archie, she remembered, before she’d passed out. And Jack had told him to keep an eye out for him. And now … He’d been cut to ribbons. That’s what he’d said.

No, it was ridiculous. Not Archie. He couldn’t have. He wasn’t like that.

‘Are you all right, Tibs?’

Her only reply was a brief nod, then, ignoring the heap of wet washing at her feet she turned on her heel, hitched up her skirts and ran from the yard.

‘Be careful if you’re going out, Tibs. They’re saying it’s just like what happened to that poor girl they found back in the spring,’ Archie called after her. But she didn’t hear him – she was yelling at the top of her voice for Kit to wake up and get dressed.

‘So, will it be all right then, Jack?’ Tibs’s eyes were pleading. ‘She wouldn’t be no nuisance or anything if you let me bring her back here to live with us. I promise. She’d be ever so quiet. And …’

‘And we need the other room,’ Kitty butted in, nearly
as excited as Tibs, ‘so we can make the place nice for her. A proper home, with a sitting-room and everything. She’s a lovely little thing, you wait and see.’

Jack was feeling confused. He had been sitting quietly alone in the bar, supposedly going over the weekly figures, but actually trying to figure out what the hell he was going to do about Tess, when these two had burst in like a pair of whirling dervishes.

First Tibs had started rattling on about a little girl –
her
little girl, from what he could make out – and then Kitty, usually so reserved, had started demanding he give them another room. Well, not demanding exactly, but she was certainly being forceful all right. What was going on?

‘How is it you never mentioned this kiddie before, like?’ he asked, scratching his head. Having Tess around and seeing what she had turned into – or what she had really been like all along, maybe – had made him suspicious. Maybe the girls were working on a scam, planning on taking in lodgers next door, or even setting up some sort of case house on the quiet.

Tibs glanced sideways at Kitty, who encouraged her with a nod. ‘Albert,’ she said, as though that explained everything, then stared down at her feet and added, ‘I was too scared to bring her here in case he found out. It wasn’t just me the bullying bastard was threatening. I couldn’t risk him knowing where she was.’

‘We went to see Polly yesterday,’ Kitty began.

Jack felt like cheering. That’s where they went, to see this nipper of Tibs’s. And that’s why they were so secretive. ‘You went to see her, did you?’

‘We did. And it was a terrible place.’ Kitty shook her head at the memory.

‘And that’s why I want to bring her here. Back home with me, where she belongs. Please, Jack.’

‘There’s plenty of room next door, of course, although it’d take lots of work to sort it out,’ he said slowly. ‘But why aren’t you worried about this Albert any more?’ Jack couldn’t help wondering if Tressing had said something to the girls about him keeping Albert out of the way. For reasons Jack really didn’t want to think too much about he didn’t much like the idea of Tressing having too much to do with them.

‘He can’t hurt her now,’ said Kitty in a dramatic whisper. She leaned forward and with eyes opened wide she breathed, ‘He’s been murdered!’

Later, as Jack knelt on the bench in the bar, craning his neck to see out of the clear top of the window, watching the girls race off along the street to fetch the child, he wondered how on earth he’d managed to hide his reaction at the news of Albert’s death.

He knew Tressing was a strange one, but surely he couldn’t have had anything to do with it?

No. It was a ridiculous idea. And it wasn’t as if murder was that rare in the East End slums where life seemed to be so cheap. In fact, when he thought about it, he’d only been here a matter of days when that girl had been found carved up like a slaughtered animal, just a few hundred yards away, up by the Royal Mint.

And anyway, Jack had worse problems than worrying about the death of a man who, from what he’d gathered, was capable of committing just about any sort of crime you cared to mention, murder included no doubt. He’d have wound up on the gallows anyway, more than likely.

It was probably just someone settling an old score. A score they’d all be far better off knowing nothing about. When Jack came to think about it the world was a better place without the likes of Albert Symes.

What he really had to sort out was his own life. He wanted to know exactly what Kitty thought of him and then to do something about Tess.

Tess.

Now there was a problem.

She wasn’t much like the person he’d remembered. Granted, she had always come across as a sensible if slightly stem type of a girl, but now he saw her quite differently. She was a hard-faced, caustic-tongued woman. Yes, she’d probably suffered when he’d left the village – no one would care for being left behind like that – but she seemed to have got over it soon enough and had married the first lad with decent savings who’d asked her.

But the marriage hadn’t lasted. Within a month the new bride had become a widow. The pits had claimed another group of lives. And now she was determined to find yet another new start in life. And good for her. But what concerned Jack was that he – or rather his money – seemed to figure quite prominently in her plans.

He pulled off his battered old hat, raked back his hair and sighed.

Why did life have to be so bloody complicated, that’s what he wanted to know.