The Lights of London (32 page)

It was Saturday morning, only a week since Polly had been brought back to the house, but she was already looking like a different child – clean, far less anxious about being sent back to Mrs Bowdall’s and growing happier with each day that passed.

‘You know, Kit, I’ve never been much of a one for mornings before,’ said Tibs, as she gently stroked the head of her golden-haired daughter, who was sleeping contentedly between them. ‘But now I really look forward to waking up. Even after doing three shows a night it’s a pleasure opening my eyes and seeing this little angel, and knowing that that bastard’s not waiting down some alley, ready to pounce on me and ruin everything.’

Kitty got out of the bed, careful not to disturb Polly, stretched and yawned. ‘Any plans?’ she asked, pouring some water from the jug into the wash-basin.

Tibs nodded. ‘With this lovely weather holding up I thought Polly could do with some fresh air. And I want to get her a few bits and pieces, so I can chuck away them horrible rags that old cow had her in. So, how about coming down the market with us?’

‘If you’re sure you want me to come.’

‘Course I do. Why d’you say that?’

‘You’ve been a bit … I don’t know how to say it.’

‘Say what?’

‘I feel silly.’

‘Kit.’

She shrugged gloomily. ‘I thought you might not want me around any more.’

Tibs crawled off the bed and pulled Kitty over to the window. ‘What the hell are you talking about?’

‘I know you’ve got a lot to think about, but you’ve been sort of different.’

Tibs touched her gently on the cheek. ‘Kit, I’m sorry, love. But, you know, what with Polly coming home …’

‘And Albert being killed?’

Tibs flapped her hands casually.
‘Albert being killed
? Why would that worry me?’

‘All right, all right,’ called Archie, ‘I’m coming. What’s wrong with everyone this morning, eh, Rex?’ he said, grabbing the growling dog by the scruff of his neck. ‘People bashing on the door, trying to get in the bar and it’s not even ten o’clock, and you acting like you was some big old guard dog after a burglar or something.’

Archie pinned Rex firmly between his knees, while he unbolted the door with his good hand. ‘Oh, it’s you.’

Dr Tressing took off his hat and moved forward to step inside, but Archie stood his ground, blocking the doorway.

‘Mr Fisher’s out,’ he said, tempted to let Rex go. The dog didn’t like this bloke and nor did he for that matter. He knew Jack had needed his backing and had been glad he’d come up with the money for him, but there was something about him that Archie just couldn’t stomach.

‘It’s not him I came to see. Now move aside and let me in. And tell Miss Wallis,’ he paused, ‘and Miss Tyler I wish to see them.’

Archie felt relieved at honestly being able to say, ‘They’re out as well.’ Then added less truthfully, as he’d spoken to Kitty only a few minutes ago, ‘And, before
you ask, no I don’t know where, and I can’t let you in ’cos I’m going out and all.’

Kitty and Tibs walked along with the sun on their backs, each holding one of Polly’s hands. Tibs pointed out a twittering starling perched on the bar of a lamp-post and a dusty weed growing up through a crack in the gutter to her wide-eyed child, who was taking such delight in the simple childhood pleasures that her mother had, until now, been unable to give her.

Then, when they turned into a small street off Cable Street and Polly gasped out loud as she caught sight of the colour and bustle of the busy market, Tibs could have cried with joy at her child’s happiness – and regret at the time they had lost. ‘You don’t remember this, do you, darling,’ she said.’ ’Cos you was a tiny little thing when I used to bring you here. I’d carry you around in my arms, snuggled up to me, like a baby bird all warm in her nest.’ She waited for Polly to repeat what had become her favourite phrase.

‘Tell me again what I was like?’

‘You was my little princess and I’ll never ever let anyone take you away again. Not ever.’ Tibs kissed the top of Polly’s head. ‘Now come on, let’s go and see what we can find for you.’

The three of them moved from trader to trader; one minute sorting through piles of bright ribbons and the next considering the quality of the dull bundles of ‘hardly worn’ flannel petticoats that, in only a month or so, they’d be layering up under their top clothes to keep out the chill.

By the time they had walked from one end of the market to the other and back again – just to make sure they hadn’t missed any treasures in between – Tibs and Kitty were laden with bags of second-hand children’s
clothes, a pair of little red button boots that looked almost as good as new from the shoe doctor and three fat, juicy pears to enjoy after their supper.

‘I reckon we deserve a nice cuppa before we get off home, don’t you?’ said Tibs, lifting her chin at the coffee stall. ‘And a big cup o’ milk for me baby.’

As they sipped at their drinks Polly watched, warily at first, peeping from behind her mother’s skirts, but then laughing happily, as a gang of boys arrived at the market hanging on to the tail-board of a cart, the Blakeys on the soles of their boots sparking and cracking as they dragged their feet over the cobbles.

‘Taking passengers now, Alf?’ hollered a ruddy-faced costermonger at the driver. ‘Make sure they pay their fares, won’t you!’

The carman twisted round and, seeing the boys, flicked his whip angrily at them. They immediately let go and fell in a laughing heap to the ground. But they were soon on their feet again, starting on their next bit of mischief, circling and taunting the man who had just parked his garishly painted ice-cream cart by the refreshment stand.

‘Hokey Pokey, farthing a lump,’ they yelled, jumping up and down as they recited their rhyme. ‘The more you eat, the more you trump!’

‘Bloody street-Arabs,’ Tibs chided them, but at the same time tossed them a silver threepenny piece. ‘Go on, get yourselves a farthing lick each,’ she went on, pointing to the stack of thick glass returnable cones that the ice-cream came scraped into. ‘And don’t be so bloody rude to grown-ups in future.’

Tibs turned round to pay for their drinks – she had refused to allow Kitty to pay for anything today – when someone called her name.

She looked over her shoulder and saw Archie, puffing
and blowing as though he’d just competed in the hundred-yard dash.

‘I found you,’ he gasped.

Tibs bent down and said something to Polly, then ushered her towards Kitty. ‘Take Polly over there a minute, will you, Kit?’

‘Where?’ Kitty was completely taken by surprise. Tibs had been so protective of her little girl since they’d fetched her home that she barely let her out of her sight and was forever running in and out of the pub to go next door and check on her, even though she was sound asleep in bed, with the young barman’s clucking old Aunt Sarah keeping an over-protective eye on her.

‘I dunno, Kit,’ she said distractedly. ‘Show her the barrel-organ man’s monkey or something. Just take her, eh?’

‘All right.’ Kitty nodded and led Polly away.

Satisfied they were out of earshot, Tibs turned to Archie and said firmly, ‘What’s wrong with you? You’re panting like you’re being chased. Not got someone after you, have you?’

He wasn’t sure what to say. He’d come to warn her about Tressing, but the man hadn’t actually done anything he could really point to. It was just this feeling he had. And while Archie certainly didn’t want Tibs to think he was interfering, or, worse still, that he was raving bonkers accusing a doctor of something Archie couldn’t even put his finger on, at least he now knew she was safe and well.

‘Well?’ Tibs demanded.

‘Nothing really. There was just this weird bloke hanging around, that’s all. And I wanted to make sure he wasn’t, you know, bothering you.’

‘What bloke? What’re you talking about?’

‘One of them … stage-door Johnny types,’ he –
improvised. ‘Never left no flowers though.’ Archie looked about him for a distraction. ‘Nice sunny day for September, eh, Tibs?’

Tibs stared at him. He was certainly acting strangely. But was that really any reason to think he might have had something to do with Albert being done in? It was hard to credit it, the attack was so savage. But he had said, bold as anything, that he’d kill anyone who hurt her.

She looked round to check on Polly, then hissed at Archie, ‘What’s really going on?’

Archie looked startled. ‘Going on? I told you. Nothing. Fancied getting out in the sunshine, you know, having a bit of a walk and I thought – kill two birds with one stone – make sure Tibs is all right at the same time.’

‘I hardly think a stage-door Johnny’s gonna come looking for me down the market, now is he?’

Archie shrugged. ‘I was just worried. Sorry if I overstepped the mark.’

‘And I’m sorry to interrupt.’

Tibs twisted round. It was Kitty. She was holding Polly’s hand safely enough, but she was looking really harassed. ‘I know you’re talking, but …’

‘What?’ Tibs snatched Polly up into her arms and held her close. ‘What’s wrong?’

‘I sort of told Polly we’ll take her to the seaside. It just sort of …’

‘Tomorrow!’ piped Polly excitedly.

Tibs felt relief wash through her. ‘That’s a smashing idea,’ she said, squeezing Polly tight. ‘We can go over to the beach at Greenwich.’

‘Greenwich!’ Polly squeaked with pleasure.

‘No,’ said Tibs. ‘We’ll go to the proper seaside. We’ll go to Southend. I’ve not been there for years.’

Polly didn’t know what any of this meant but it sounded a lot better than mangling in Mrs Bowdall’s scullery. ‘And Uncle Archie can come!’

Archie shrugged. ‘Your mum won’t want me coming along, Poll.’

He was right, Tibs didn’t much fancy the idea of having a man who might be capable of such violence going on an outing with her child, but before she could come up with a way of saying so, without accusing him of such terrible things in front of Polly, Kitty had settled the matter.

‘Of course we do, Archie,’ she said, flashing a smile at her friend. ‘Don’t we, Tibs?’

‘Well,’ he said, ruffling Polly’s hair, ‘it looks like I’m invited.’

‘And we’ll invite Uncle Jack and all,’ said Tibs with what she hoped was a carefree laugh. ‘Safety in numbers, eh, Kit?’

It was nine o’clock the next morning and Jack was like a dog with two tails at the prospect of going on an outing with Kitty. Not that he’d ever been to Southend, but they could have been going down the mine and he’d still have been thrilled. The only fly in the ointment of this glorious morning was Tess.

There she was, sitting on the edge of the bed – where she had taken to sleeping, while he was forced to camp out on the floor – with her back stiff, her lips pursed and a look on her face that could have curdled milk.

‘And where do you think you’re off to all dressed up like a dog’s dinner?’

‘I’ve had a wash and a shave, Tess,’ he said, fastening his collar stud. ‘I’m not wearing white tie and bloody tails.’

‘And there’s no need for that kind of language, Jack
Fisher. You’re not talking to one of your cockney guttersnipes now you know.’

‘I’m going out for the day.’

‘Wasting more money, I suppose.’

‘Tess, I offered to give you your fare home on the train. I’m even prepared to stump up for second class. What more d’you want from me?’

She laughed unpleasantly. ‘This is fine behaviour, this is. You could send me a guinea in a letter, just like that, but now all you’re offering me is a few pounds, and you expect me to be satisfied and to disappear out of your life for ever.’ She looked him up and down. ‘But then, that was before you got involved with your fancy new friends.’

Jack sighed in desperation. ‘You can’t be happy being stuck up here in this poky little room.’ Then he added under his breath, ‘Even if you have taken my bloody bed.’

‘I’m not, but then I’m not exactly thrilled at the prospect of you going out spending money on rubbish either. But I don’t get much say in it.’

‘We’ve gone over all this too many times to need to say it again, Tess, but I’ll say it this once more. I’m prepared to give you money. I wouldn’t want to see any widow woman going short, but I’m sorry, I’m not prepared to give you half of everything. I’ve had to work hard to achieve all this. Had to put in all the hard graft and take all the risks. I’m not just going to give it away.’

‘You made me promises, Jack Fisher. And I want more than just a few pounds for my trouble. Coming all this way, making a fool of myself by begging for what’s rightly mine.’

‘Are you saying you want me to marry you?’ The words nearly choked him.

‘Don’t be ridiculous. I’m entitled to half because I’m the one who gave you the strength to start saving in the first place. You’d have been nothing without my encouragement. Nothing. I took real trouble over you.’

‘I don’t remember it that way, actually, Tess. The way you talk, you make it sound as though I was some sort of plan you were working on.’

‘What else were you? And what thanks did I get? You cleared off and left me once you’d got what you wanted. And I’m not just talking about the money to open this place. I gave myself to you, Jack Fisher.’ She sneered. ‘And don’t look at me like that, I know I never meant anything to you. You never meant anything to me either, to tell you the truth. You were a means to an end. I was going to have a respectable life with a decent bit put by in the bank, but you dumped me. And now you’ve wound up messing around with all this nonsense and mooning after that tall great thing next door.’

‘
What
?’

‘You don’t think I stay up here all the time, locked away like a guilty secret, do you?’

‘You mean you go out?’

She smiled nastily. ‘That’s got you worried, hasn’t it, lad? If you must know, I’ve been standing at the back of the theatre every night, watching the goings-on of that pair of harlots. Can’t say I’m that impressed. But then I’m not paying for the privilege like all those fools. What a waste of money.’

‘I don’t believe it. After everything I said. And you promised …’

‘Like you did, Jack. Remember? Tell you what, maybe I should introduce myself around as the girl you said you’d marry.’