The Street

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‘Lucy’s nappy,’ Alice said by way of explanation as Sophy wrinkled her nose at her. Alice had tried to rinse her hands under the tap on the landing but the place was so packed it was hard to get to the water and wash properly. She felt a little embarrassed and annoyed at Sophy for miming she stank in front of Danny. ‘Anyhow, your mum said you’ve got to go ‘n’ check on the little ’uns,’ she told Danny.

Danny muttered beneath his breath but got to his feet.

‘I’ll come with you,’ Sophy immediately volunteered.

A significant look seemed to pass between the two of them. ‘Nah . . . ’s’alright,’ Danny mumbled. ‘Geoff might be in there. Not seen him go out. Not that he’s any bleedin’ use with the kids. He’s probably akip.’

‘You two been making plans then?’ Alice asked when they were alone. Sarah had gone off to the shop with her sister Connie to get some sherbert.

Alice knew that Danny had just started a new job down the market helping on a costermonger’s stall. Despite having boasted months ago he wouldn’t be taking dead-end errand-boy jobs, that was what he’d started off with. To save face he said he’d taken it because he got a bike to use for deliveries. He’d bring the bike home at dinnertime and give the Keiver kids and his brothers and sisters lifts on the cross bars up and down the road. But misuse of the bike wasn’t why he’d got the sack. The grocer had got suspicious about the amount of stale loaves and broken biscuits that went missing rather than being sold on at a discount. Of course, he couldn’t prove that Danny had had them . . . but he reckoned it’d seemed odd that Mrs Lovat never seemed to need to buy bread to go with her margarine and jam.

Chapter Seven (#ulink_b35e43cf-edcb-58c9-a9c1-d746798ce300)

‘I’m going to ask you a straight question and you’d better give me a straight answer.’ Tilly was talking to Sophy but she suddenly shot a frown at Alice. ‘Wait outside.’

Alice did as she was told and descended the stairs. She loitered first in the musty hallway then, when the sensation of debris, blown in by the wind, fluttering against her feet began to irritate, she went to breathe in the sweeter atmosphere of a dull and misty mid-November morning. She stuffed her hands in her pockets and shivered against the chill whilst her mind began turning over possible reasons why her mum would want a private talk with Sophy. From several painful experiences Alice had learned that usually no good reason prompted their mother to get you on your own.

She heard a clattering of footsteps on the stairs and saw her cousins Bobbie and Stevie emerge from the murky hallway. Alice noticed that one of Stevie’s cheeks looked red.

‘Your dad clouted yer?’ Alice asked him sympathetically.

Stevie sniffed and cuffed at his nose. ‘Nah . . . got it off me mum,’ he said.

‘He wet the bed again,’ Bobbie said and dodged as his brother swung out at him. ‘He’ll get a belt off dad ‘n’ all tonight if he smells piss on the sheet.’ Bobbie started trotting down the road.

‘Why don’t you shut yer gob,’ Stevie snarled after him before he slunk past Alice.

Various people were coming out of the tenement houses: adults going off to work, children on their way to school. Alice returned a simple greeting to people who hailed her whilst her mind still brooded on what was going on upstairs. She gazed up at the battered sash window as though wishing to peer in it and ease her curiosity. It seemed she’d been waiting ages for Sophy. Slowly her faraway vision dropped, focused on Sarah Whitton who was on her way down the road towards her.

Sarah had lodged with the Keivers until last month. Then Tilly had said enough was enough. She’d wanted Beth out of her bed and again in the back room with the other girls. So Sarah had had to return home. Sarah had wanted to stay but Alice had been oddly relieved and had only half-heartedly backed her friend’s pleas to stay. Since the piano had arrived and taken pride of place in the front room their home was even more cramped than usual. But it certainly had been well used and even her mum had grudgingly said it had been worth shelling out for.

‘What you hangin’ about for?’ Sarah asked as she drew level with Alice. ‘Be late if you don’t get going.’

‘Waiting for Sophy. Mum’s got her upstairs . . . talking to her,’ Alice added darkly.

‘She in trouble?’ Sarah asked with a grimace.

‘Dunno . . . hope not,’ Alice replied and sent another look up at the top-floor window. She suddenly realised that she needed to get rid of Sarah so that when Sophy eventually appeared she could find out what’d gone on. Sophy would clam up in front of Sarah. Their mum had drummed into them enough times that you never let anyone, including your friends, know too much about your family’s business. ‘You’d best be getting off or you’ll be late. Don’t hang about waiting for us.’

Sarah gave a shrug as though indicating she wasn’t too bothered about being late for registration but, after a few silent minutes, she sensed Alice’s withdrawal and mumbled a farewell. Alice watched her friend go and then took a few paces towards the desolate hallway. She wondered whether to creep back in and listen on the stairs to try and find out what was going on. She decided not to bother. If her mum were in any sort of paddy she’d be able to hear all about it just where she was.

‘I know you ‘n’ Danny Lovat have been friendly for a while and I ain’t put a stop to you seeing him because I ain’t seen you misbehaving.’ Tilly paused and considered. ‘Ain’t seen him misbehavin’ either. Fact is he’s been alright giving you bits ‘n’ pieces he’s got hold of.’ Tilly remembered that Danny had given Sophy bread and biscuits when he’d worked at the grocery store. Now he was helping out old Mr Greene on his market stall, Sophy often brought in a bit of buckshee fruit or salad stuff. In fact, Tilly had been happy to foster the little romance between her eldest daughter and the lad next door. But something was niggling at her and Tilly’s way was to have it out rather than brood on it.

‘Have you let him touch yer?’ Tilly demanded to know. She fixed on Sophy a stare that made her daughter blush crimson and fidget on the spot.

‘’Course not,’ Sophy spluttered, guessing at once what was worrying her mother. She’d thought she might not have noticed. Recently their mother had been boozing most nights now they were more flush with money. Their dad was working late distempering and so on and getting more of Basher Payne’s houses ready for the sanitary inspector. But, drunk or sober, it seemed Tilly managed to keep an eagle eye on all that occurred, or didn’t occur, in the Keiver household.

‘I’ve not seen you take any rags out the drawer this month.’ Tilly continued cutting bread for Bethany’s breakfast but she slid Sophy another piercing look. ‘You’d better not be lying to me, my gel,’ she said in a quiet, sinister voice, so unlike her usual harsh tone. ‘I’ve told you what happens when boys take liberties with gels. The gels get in the family way ‘n’ then it’s right big trouble. So even with boys you really like you don’t ever let them take liberties like that. Right? Remember what happened to Maisie Brookes?’

Sophy nodded, quickly edging towards the door. She remembered that alright. It’d gone round their school like wildfire that poor Maisie had almost died to get herself out of the trouble that Tommy Greenfield had got her into. But Sophy knew she wasn’t that daft. She and Danny had already worked that one out and knew what to do. ‘I’d better get going to school,’ she said. ‘I’ll be late.’ She shoved an arm into a sleeve of her coat.

‘Yeah . . . well, end of this month you won’t have no more school. The day you turn fourteen you’re out ‘n’ earnin’ full-time,’ Tilly called after her. ‘Christmas ain’t far off ‘n’ we need all the wages we can get to make it a good ’un fer once.’

Sophy gave a nod. She was glad to change the subject. ‘I’m already keeping me ears ‘n’ eyes open for something.’

‘I’ve been looking too. Don’t yer worry about that, my gel.’ Tilly gave a rare smile. ‘I think I’ve found something for you to start off with. Rag shop in Fonthill Road needs a sorter. One of ’em’s leaving to have her baby come the end of the month. I already put your name forward fer it.’

‘I ain’t doing that!’ Sophy stopped her sidling towards the door. She showed her mother an expression of total disgust. ‘I ain’t coming home stinking ‘n’ dusty ‘n’ covered in fleabites for a measly seven bob a week. I’ll stick with me doorsteps if nothing else turns up.’

‘You’ll take whatever full-time you can get hold of. If you want to keep your doorsteps then do them Saturday morning or give ’em to Alice to take on. Doorsteps are kids’ work for weekends. You’re out of here working every day, pulling in full-time, or you’re outta here fer good. I mean it.’

‘I’ll sort out me own work,’ Sophy mumbled and slipped out onto the landing before adding, ‘Pam Greenfield got a job packing in the laundry in Fonthill Road. I can try there.’ She turned and was soon hurrying down the stairs.

‘I already tried the laundry. They don’t want no one else right now,’ her mother yelled after her.

‘What’s she on about?’ Alice asked Sophy as they started trudging down the road towards school.

‘Reckons she’s got me a job ready ‘n’ waiting in the rag shop in Fonthill Road for when I turn fourteen. Fine birthday present that’ll be! Ain’t havin’ it ‘n’ that’s that. I’ll try one of the factories for a job as a tea gel. But I ain’t workin’ in no poxy rag shop sorting stinky old clothes for a pittance.’

Alice looked sympathetic. In just over a year’s time, it would be her turn to try and winkle out a reasonable job for herself. Searching for decent work around here – especially when employers guessed you came from the Campbell Bunk – was like finding a gold ring in the gutter.

‘You could go try in the factory that makes toys,’ she suggested to Sophy, but not very enthusiastically.

‘Connie reckons that’s what sent her sister Louisa so nutty. It were three years ago but she’s never been the same since, Connie says.’

‘Louisa’s always been a mad cow.’ Alice chuckled. ‘Anyhow you don’t want to go talking to Connie now she’s seeing that copper. Mum’ll go mad if she thinks you’ve been telling her anything. She calls her the copper’s nark.’

‘Haven’t told Connie nuthin’. Hardly ever talk to her. She thinks she’s something, she does, now she’s moved in with his family.’

‘They sound horrible anyhow,’ Alice said, wrinkling her nose. ‘Connie told Sarah his mum’s stuck up and calls her common as muck. His dad keeps touching Connie up.’ Alice looked thoughtful. ‘I don’t suppose she’ll decide to come back here though.’

After they’d walked a distance in silence Alice shot a shrewd look at Sophy. ‘Is that all Mum wanted with you? To talk about getting work?’

Sophy pursed her lips before starting to chew at the lower. ‘Wanted to know about me ‘n’ Danny being sweet on each other . . . you know . . . about us kissing ‘n’ so on. She’s guessed me monthlies are late.’

Alice felt a hard lump jump to her throat. Sophy had already confided that to her but had said there was nothing to worry about because she’d been late before and in the end it came alright. But if Sophy had done something really silly, like dropping her drawers for Danny and going all the way, Alice didn’t even want to consider what the outcome of that might be.

When Tommy Greenfield had got Maisie Brookes in the family way all hell had broken loose. The Brookeses and Greenfields had been fighting in the streets every other day for ages. Then Maisie’s mum got what she wanted out of the Greenfields. She got some money and took Maisie to see someone in King’s Cross and when they got back Maisie wasn’t expecting any more.

‘D’you ever find out what happened to Maisie when she got pregnant?’ Alice slid a fearful look at Sophy.

‘Her mum took her to some sort of doctor down in King’s Cross.’ Sophy pulled a face. ‘He stuck something like a skewer inside her ter get rid of the baby and it all came out in sort of big bits of liver. That’s what I heard anyhow.’

‘Must’ve hurt terrible,’ Alice whispered with a shudder. She’d guessed it had been something awful because Maisie had looked like death warmed up for ages afterwards.

Sophy sensed Alice’s frightened eyes on her. ‘’S’alright,’ she reassured her but with a smile that wobbled on her lips. ‘We always do it standin’ up. Danny said you can’t ever get pregnant like that.’

‘You sure about it?’

Sophy nodded miserably, her eyes darting about as though she feared they were being watched. But at the moment the Fonthill Mews, where she and Danny had stationed themselves to talk in private, seemed to be quiet enough. ‘Sure as I can be. I know me aunt Fran was being sick when she was first expecting though she’s alright now she’s big as a house. Her baby’s due in a couple of months, me mum says.’

‘Can’t see nuthin’.’ Danny eyed Sophy’s belly. ‘Just ’cos you’ve been sick a few times don’t mean yer in the family way.’ He sounded desperate to believe his own reassurance and he scraped the fingers of one hand agitatedly through his hair.

‘’S’not just that. Me monthlies haven’t come for ages . . . must be almost three months now.’

‘Can’t be,’ Danny said then followed it up with, ‘Shit!’ He looked bleakly at Sophy. ‘Ain’t getting trapped in to stayin’ round here,’ he warned her through gritted teeth. ‘Ain’t ending up in some poxy room in a dump like this with no money and whining kids. Already got that back there and it’s driving me nuts.’ He jerked his head towards Campbell Road.

He raised a hand to touch Sophy’s face as he watched her lower lip wobble. ‘Love you, Sophy, honest I do, but we can’t get tied down yet or we’ll have nuthin’, just like the rest o’ the sad gits here. Be trapped in The Bunk forever, we will, if we can’t get decent jobs and get a few bob behind us before we get wed.’

Sophy nodded and bit her lip. She knew Danny was right, but she knew too she was pregnant. She felt different, she was getting fat, so a baby must be growing inside her.

It was mid December and many weeks had passed since her mother had interrogated her that morning and made her late for school. Tilly had managed to wangle her a good job at the Star Brush factory because she’d called in a favour from Kitty Drew, one of the supervisors. Sophy was only making tea and doing a few odd jobs but she liked it and the wages at eleven shillings were better than she’d expected to start off with. Not that she got to keep much of it. Her mother soon had her pay packet off her on a Friday and woe betide if she tried to slip a bit out before handing it over. Sophy knew that to lose such a good job would be a disaster. She knew she would lose it if she were pregnant. She glanced at Danny; he was still staring at her, white-faced and frowning, as though he was desperately trying to think of a reason why she might be wrong.

‘Can’t you do something?’ Danny burst out and then relief lifted his countenance. ‘You’re supposed to drink gin, or something like that,’ he rattled off. ‘I remember now when one of me friend’s brothers got a girl knocked up he got her a bottle o’ gin.’

‘Did it work?’ Sophy asked, brightening a little.

‘Dunno . . . we’re here now, ain’t we, not in Essex. It don’t notice,’ Danny added quickly as Sophy looked as though she might burst in to tears. ‘You can get rid of it before anyone knows . . . only us’ll ever know.’

‘Me mum’s gonna kill me if she finds out.’ Sophy snuffled on her sleeve.

‘I’ll get you a bottle of gin soon as I can,’ Danny promised. He leaned forward and pecked at her lips.

‘Gedoff!’ Sophy shoved him away. ‘’S’how I got in trouble.’ She pushed him more purposefully as he persevered in trying to kiss her. ‘Got to get back to work anyhow. Me dinnertime’s over.’ They walked to the end of the Fonthill Mews. ‘You’d best get me that gin then,’ Sophy ordered grumpily before they turned in opposite directions.

‘Fuckin’ fine New Year this is goin’ to be.’ Tilly’s shrieked exclamation reverberated about the room. It had been loud enough for every person in the tenement house to know something bad had happened to the Keivers.

Sophy cuffed her wet face and tried to escape her mother’s swinging fist by dodging behind her father.

‘Get off her and calm yourself down,’ Jack bawled at his wife as Tilly lunged at Sophy again. He grabbed at Tilly and, planting his palms on her shoulders, shoved her down on the edge of the bed.

Sophy was sobbing quietly, one of her palms fastened to a cheek reddened from her mother’s hefty blow.

‘You stupid little cow,’ Tilly spat between her thin lips. ‘I warned you . . . I warned you what’d happen if you let him . . .’

‘Shut up,’ Jack snarled at her. He might have seemed more in control of his temper than his wife but he was equally shocked and angry. ‘If I’m going to cause a war . . . and it will be a hell of a war,’ he stressed to his oldest daughter, ‘I need to know I’m doing it for a real reason.’ A paternal eye examined Sophy’s body. He noticed the thickening about her usually skinny hips and the buttons stretched across her bosom. ‘You sure, Sophy?’ he asked unnecessarily; his eyes had told him the awful truth.

‘She’s just been sick again,’ Tilly pointed out, kicking at the bowl on the floor that held the vomit and sending it over. ‘That’s the third time this week. She’s missed three monthlies. What more proof d’yer need that she’s knocked up?’

Jack swiped up the half-empty bottle of gin that Tilly had found hidden under the mattress in the back room. ‘’Course she’s been sick if she’s been downing this stuff.’

‘Why do you think she’s been downing that stuff?’ Tilly bawled scathingly. ‘To try and get rid of it, that’s why.’ She shot to her feet. ‘If you ain’t goin’ after Danny Lovat, I’ll do it meself. If those bastards think they’ve got a roof over their heads after today they can think again. They’re out on the streets and I’ll make sure nobody else round here takes them in. They’ll bleeding well suffer fer doin’ this to us.’

Jack again slammed a hand on Tilly’s shoulder and pushed her down. He swiped fidgeting fingers over his bristly jaw. ‘No need to be spiteful, Til. Seems it’s as much Sophy’s fault as his. Sophy ain’t accused Danny of forcing himself on her.’

‘He didn’t . . . I swear . . .’ Sophy squeaked from behind her father.

‘Keep quiet,’ Jack barked at her and continued reasoning with his wife. ‘I’d say Bert ‘n’ Margaret are going to be as done in as we are when they find out. They’re not going to want this trouble any more’n we do. They don’t need another mouth to feed any more’n we do.’

‘There ain’t gonna be another mouth to feed,’ Tilly spat out. ‘She’s only fourteen ‘n’ she’s getting decent wages down at Star Brush. Whatever needs to be done’ll be done.’

‘If you mean what I think you mean,’ Jack said through gritted teeth, ‘you’ll do it over my dead body.’ He glared ferociously at Tilly. ‘Abortionist ain’t getting nowhere near her, and that’s the end of it.’

‘We’ll see about that,’ Tilly muttered.

Tilly got up and this time when Jack made to push her back down she thumped him in the chest double-handed. ‘I’m going round to see the Lovats. If you think you can stop me, just try. I’ll have you first if yer like.’

‘Can’t always sort out everything by lashin’ out, Til,’ Jack said quietly. ‘This is our daughter and our first grandchild we’re talking about here. Danny might do his duty by her. They’re both old enough to be wed, if not wise enough.’

‘Stupid, sentimental git!’ Tilly exploded. ‘What they supposed to do fer money? Neither of ’em’s got a pot to piss in. We got no room to have them here and the Lovats are worse off’n we are.’

Tilly transferred her glare to Alice, who had been standing still and silent in a corner of the room, watching and listening in fascinated dread to this latest upset in the Keiver household. Alice had been awaiting this showdown. For weeks past she’d feared it to be looming menacingly just a few days away.

‘You know anything about all this?’ Tilly demanded.

Alice shook her head and her anxious gaze darted back to Sophy. It wasn’t wholly a lie. She’d guessed, of course, at the awful truth as soon as she’d noticed Sophy’s belly getting bigger. But Sophy had said nothing and acted quite normal. She hadn’t confided in her even when she’d hidden the bottle of gin under the bed. Alice had just thought she’d started to drink because she was showing off now she’d got a good job.

So all the time Alice had hoped and prayed that she was wrong and Sophy was right: her sister might be getting a fat boozer but she couldn’t possibly be pregnant because she’d always done it standing up with Danny, so that was alright.

It was a Sunday afternoon in late January and despite the freezing cold weather a lot of people would be about in Campbell Road. That wouldn’t stop Tilly causing a rumpus out there in front of them. You kept to yourself and dealt in private with what you could, but when you couldn’t you might as well let the whole world know what you were up to, and why. That way they’d know you weren’t a mug and easily messed with. Tilly started for the door, rolling up her sleeves to her elbows as she went.

‘I’ll go next door. You stay here,’ Jack directed her grimly and stepped in front of her. It wasn’t that he feared for his wife’s safety. He knew she could look after herself, as did most people who’d been about The Bunk long enough to get on the wrong side of her. But he was still head of the household and as such it was his place to confront Danny.

‘I’ll be right behind you then,’ Tilly said forcefully. She let Jack go out then grabbing Sophy by the wrist she jerked her forward. ‘You can come ‘n’ all,’ she barked. ‘You’ve had your fun, now see what it cost. After that I’m gonna pay you fer this.’

Chapter Eight (#ulink_abf806c7-934e-5d91-9633-2873e3f9f6ed)

‘Looks like trouble’s on its way.’

Geoff Lovat had made that muttered observation before turning from the window and staring meaningfully at his older brother. Unfortunately Danny missed his warning. He seemed to be lost in a world of his own and continued gazing at the cold tea cupped between his palms.

Their parents, ever alert to the word trouble, had both shot up from the table and elbowed Geoff out of the way. His mother had got there first. She was faster on her feet than his crippled father. Soon Bert had caught up and was squirming for a space at the window so he could peer out.

Moments before Geoff had been watching the street scene, yawning. Then he’d spotted the Keivers and his jaw had clacked shut. Jack Keiver was marching ahead with his wife right on his heels, dragging Sophy by an arm.

Instinctively Geoff had guessed what the problem was. He knew that when their parents had been getting a skinful on a Saturday night in the Keivers’ place Danny had been getting to grips with Sophy in their place. It hadn’t happened for a while now, probably because Sophy had panicked when she’d guessed she was up the duff and put a block on it. Often on a Saturday evening Geoff had been obliging enough to take himself off to give the lovebirds more time alone. Geoff had been glad to get out of the fleapit and hand over responsibility to Danny for their young brothers and sisters while he met a few mates for a crafty drink and smoke.