Ten minutes, my foot! I must have been tired, because there I was in the armchair, flat out till mid-afternoon. First thing I remembered when I woke up was that I had to tell the newspaper man about poor Mrs Mitten not wanting her paper, so I went straight out to do that. I don’t know how I’m going to manage about cigarettes. Got some funny foreign things from another place, but the woman there didn’t seem too friendly. I can’t see myself chumming up with her, and they’ll only save you the good ones if you’re a regular. Have to make some enquiries— somebody’s bound to know something I don’t, provided they’ll tell me, of course.
I did some shopping, but when I got back home I couldn’t fancy a bit of it—finding that nose really turned me up, and what that rescue man said about poor Mr Mitten all blown to pieces… I tried to take my mind off it, but after a bit I thought, well, I’ve got to do something, so I decided I’d go round to Eileen’s to ask her about cigarettes. I’d go to Bridget, but she’d touch me for money, like as not, and Annie’s not the sort you ask for favours. Eileen’s never had a good word to say about Lily since the business over Ted, but she and I get along all right. Besides, with all this going on, we’ve got to stick together, haven’t we?
I was just getting my coat on when somebody came charging up the stairs and started pounding on the door. ‘Rene! Rene! Quick!’ When I open up, it’s only Eileen, looking like she’s been through a hedge backwards, puffing and panting fit to burst.
‘Whatever is it? You look terrible.’
‘Rene…it’s awful, it’s happened again…’
I got her in the armchair but it was about ten minutes before I could get anything out of her. She was rocking backwards and forwards like a madwoman, crying and moaning, and all the time I had this horrible feeling I knew what she was going to say, and my stomach was churning something dreadful.
I managed to get some tea down her in the end, with a drop of brandy in it, and I said, ‘Now then, I’m going to hold your hand, and you tell me all about it.’
‘Annie was killed, Rene, last night. Like Lily, all carved up.’
‘Annie? Never! You’re having me on.’
‘She was; the woman downstairs found her this morning. I went round to see Annie—she’d borrowed two pounds off me and she told me she’d have it this morning—so I go in and there’s policemen there and everything, and I can hear this woman crying and sobbing, and they’ve told me I can’t go in, and they won’t tell me what’s going on. And then all these others go up, and there’s this copper, he’s white as a sheet, he comes rushing downstairs and sicks up in the gutter and it’s gone everywhere. And the other one asks him if he’s all right, and he says, “Oh, it’s bad… I’ve never seen anything so bad…” He was shaking, Rene, shaking all over, he couldn’t hardly speak. So then I said, “I’ve come to see the woman upstairs, Annie Burgess,” and he says, “No, you can’t,” and I say, “I want to see she’s all right,” and I’ve rushed up them stairs before they can stop me, and there’s Annie’s door wide open, so in I go and there’s men everywhere, and the room’s all over blood, it’s everywhere, on the walls and everywhere, and Annie’s on the floor covered in a blanket, and then one of them grabs me and takes me out and… Oh, Rene, it was horrible, you can’t imagine…’
I just stared at her.
She said, ‘It’s a madman, Rene, a maniac. He’s going to kill us all. First Edie, then Lily, now Annie—’
‘But with Lily, that was Ted. They arrested him, didn’t they?’
‘That’s rubbish. He never did that.’
‘How do you know?’
‘I know Ted. Anyway, I saw him.’
‘What, you saw him the night he…I mean, the night Lily was killed?’
‘Yes. I was finished for the night, on my way home, and he bumped right into me. He’d had that much he could hardly walk, never mind murdering anyone. You should have seen him, Rene, he’d had a skinful. I didn’t think he’d be able to get home so I asked him, did he want to come along with me, but he said Lily’d be angry. He never drank like that when he was with me—she drove him to it, Rene, and now look what’s happened. Oh, it’s horrible. I told him he should have stayed with me, I’d have looked after him…’ Eileen started crying again.
I said, ‘Well, if that’s true—’
‘It is, I swear it, I saw it with my own eyes!’
‘He might have been that drunk he didn’t know what he was doing.’
‘No, he couldn’t…he wouldn’t do a thing like that.’
‘So you mean he went back home and Lily was dead and he didn’t… Well, I suppose it’s possible, if he was as drunk as you’ve said.’
‘Oh, he was, you should have seen him. He was never that bad with me, never! That cow Lily, she took him off me. I said to her, “What did I ever do to you?” And she said, “Oh, I can give him this, I can give him that…” Making out she’s better than me. She was a bitch, Rene, she deserved it!’
Well, I thought, button it, Rene, because that was a load of rubbish about Ted not drinking when he was her boy, but I wasn’t going to have her speaking ill of my pal. Mind you, I could never understand what Lily saw in Ted, because he’s a useless article at the best of times, though I have to admit I never thought he’d murder anyone.
I said to Eileen, ‘Did you tell the police?’
‘Oh, and I suppose they’d believe me, wouldn’t they?’
Well, she had a point there. They don’t believe anything we say, and of course once they knew that Ted had been Eileen’s ponce and Lily’d got him off her, well…
Eileen said, ‘I don’t know what I’m going to do. It’s not safe out there with this madman on the loose.’
‘No, I know. Poor Annie…’
‘Oh, Rene, it was dreadful, you can’t imagine.’
We had a drop more tea with the brandy in it, but it didn’t help. I didn’t know what to do. If I’m honest, I didn’t want to be with Eileen, because she kept harping on about Lily and what a bitch she was and how it was her fault Ted was arrested, and it was getting on my nerves; but I felt too shaken up to be on my own, and when you’re that way, any company’s better than none. In the end I said, ‘Well, there’s nothing we can do, so let’s go to the pictures and try to take our minds off it.’
So that’s what we did. We went to the Dominion Cinema, where Lily and me always used to go, because it’s cheaper there—one and nine each. The film was Night Train to Munich with Rex Harrison and Margaret Lockwood. I can’t remember much about it—I was too pre-occupied with everything else to pay attention—so it was a waste of money, really. But it passed the afternoon, so I suppose I shouldn’t complain.
We sat through it twice—there was an air-raid halfway through and the manager came and said we could take shelter if we liked, but no one took any notice. All the time, at the back of my mind, I was thinking, I’ve got to go out tonight. If this goes on much longer I shan’t have two pennies to rub together, and there’s Tommy and Dora to think of besides myself. I even started thinking about having it out with Joe about him hoarding money, but then I thought, what if he gets nasty? I rely on them to look after Tommy, and if he said they wouldn’t look after him no more I don’t know what I’d do.
I’d all this in my mind, going round and round in circles, and I kept thinking of what Eileen said about Annie, blood all over the room, and what it must of looked like, and then about Lily and Edie… I’m sitting there with my fists all clenched up, nails digging into the palms, thinking, I’ve got to go out there, I’ve got to, got to, got to…and totting up in my mind how much I’d get if I just stuck to my regulars, but even as I was doing it I knew it wouldn’t work because I don’t have enough of them. None of us do, round here, except maybe French Marie, and she’s got a telephone. Mind you, that’s probably not much good at the moment, with all the disruption—takes all day to get a call through, that’s what I’ve heard. But what it boils down to, is: I’ve got to go out, or I can’t survive, and neither can my Tommy—and that’s what matters.
On the way back, Eileen suddenly said, ‘You know them pictures Annie had? The film stars?’
‘Yes?’
‘They were smashed. Every last one. Smashed to pieces. Glass everywhere, and the frames all broken. That was more sad than anything, seeing them all like that. She was so proud of them.’
‘Yes, wasn’t she?’
Those photographs, well…we used to joke about them behind Annie’s back, her saying she’d been to America and she’d met them and been with them and all the rest of it. They all had these little messages written on them—‘To Annie, with fondest memories from Ronald Colman,’ or Clark Gable or whoever it was—but the thing was, these film stars, if you looked closely, they all seemed to have the same handwriting! And it wasn’t proper photos at all, just stuff she’d cut out of papers and magazines. But I knew what Eileen meant about being sad, because Annie was that proud of them. It was just her way of trying to make herself seem that bit more important. I suppose it’s something everybody does, a little, but with her, it was so…childish, I suppose, especially from this big, strapping woman who’d take no nonsense from anybody. And that was the awful thing: if anyone could take care of herself, it was Annie. I thought, if Annie couldn’t protect herself, what chance is there for the rest of us?
I felt Eileen give a little shiver, beside me, and wondered if she was thinking the same. She said, ‘What are you going to do?’
‘Same as usual. Not a lot of choice, really.’
‘No. Look, Rene, take care, all right? I shan’t take them back home no more…’
‘Nor me.’
‘Well, then. Good luck.’
‘Thanks, Eileen. Be careful.’
Then she went off home, and so did I. I got dressed, and painted my face and did my hair, and all the time there was this resolve inside me, a big, cold lump, like something settled on my stomach. I was thinking: You won’t get me, you bastard. You won’t get me, because I won’t let you.
I went marching downstairs holding my handbag like it was a weapon, and out into the street. Well, being brave was all very well as long as it lasted, but once it got dark, that was another story—it was even worse than before: all the time, in the back of my mind, I was thinking, is it you?
I kept nipping round the corner to see if I could catch the new girl—wanted to see if we could look out for each other, you know, keep a check. She never showed up. Probably terrified, and I don’t blame her.
Not a lot of business. I kept saying to myself, another ten shillings, then I’ll go. I got two pound ten in the end, and I was just about to call it a night when I heard footsteps. It sounded like a man, so I shone the torch, and then I heard, ‘Rene? That you?’ and before I know it, there’s Harry standing in front of me.
He said, ‘I came as soon as I could. Had to see if you were all right. I’ve just heard—your friend…’
‘Well, I’m still here.’
‘I was worried about you, Rene. I thought…well… I’m glad you’re here, anyway.’ And it’s true, he did sound pleased, and I was so pleased to see him I could have flung my arms round his neck there and then, but I didn’t, because it felt a bit peculiar, me standing there as if…you know…and him coming up to me like that, on the street. He said, ‘Look, I can’t stay long, but I can walk you round to the shelter, if you like. That is, if you’re…if… you know…’
‘Yes, I’ve… I’d like that.’
‘Come on then, take my arm. We’ll get your things, shall we?’
As we walked, he said, ‘I’m sorry I’ve not been to see you, but the last couple of nights…and then that business in Dean Street…’
‘I know, the tobacconist—I used to go there. Terrible. And his poor wife!’
‘The house next door, as well. They were still digging this afternoon. Only just got the last one out.’
I thought, what can you say? It’s terrible, but it keeps happening, all the time. And who’s going to worry about some madman killing a few street girls when there’s all that going on? With everybody in so much danger already, why should they care about us?
Harry came upstairs with me and waited while I gathered up my bits and pieces for the shelter. Seeing him under the light, he looked so tired and strained, I said, ‘You look as if you could do with a good night’s sleep.’
He shrugged. ‘Couldn’t everyone? You’ve got more to worry about than me, Rene. You’ve got to be careful.’
‘Oh, Harry…’ I was determined I wouldn’t cry again—not in front of him, at least—but I felt like all the heart had gone out of me. I must have looked it, too, because he said, ‘Come here.’
Being in his arms felt like the most natural thing in the world. He didn’t kiss me, just held me for a long time. ‘We’ll get through this, you’ll see,’ he said.
‘Will we?’
‘Yes. We’ll come out on top.’
I said, ‘You know something, Harry…’
‘Not until you tell me.’
‘My friend Eileen, this morning…she said she thought Ted—that’s Lily’s ponce—she never thought he did it. Killed her, I mean. And she’d know, because she was with him before Lily, see. Said she’d seen him, too, that same night, and he was dead drunk and couldn’t hardly walk. And if that’s true, that means there’s someone out there, a madman, because it has to be the same man, doesn’t it? And he’s going round—’
‘The police’ll get him, Rene. You’ll see, they—’
‘They don’t care about us, Harry!’ I broke away from him. ‘No one does. They think we’re asking for it.’
‘That’s not true, Rene.’
‘Of course it’s true. D’you think they’d help us, any more than those old peelers, or whatever they were called, would have helped your grandmother? They don’t give a monkey’s, they just—’
‘Rene, listen! I do care about you, and I don’t think you should go out, I mean, go to work…any more. I’ve got a bit of money, and I—’
‘I’m not taking your money, Harry.’
‘You can pay me back, when—’
‘When what? When the police find him and it’s safe to go back out again? They’re not going to find him, Harry. I told you, if it’s us, they’re not interested. They didn’t find Jack the Ripper, did they?’
‘No, but that was years ago. They’ve got modern methods now. They’ll find him.’
‘It’s not their methods, Harry, it’s the way they think. That’s just how it is, and it’s not going to change. Not ever.’
Harry sighed. ‘I know you’re brave, Rene, the way you’ve gone on working with the blackout, the raids, but—’
‘We’ve all done that. No choice.’
‘I know, but now—’
‘I’m not taking your money, Harry, and there’s an end to it.’ And I turned my back on him and picked up my things. ‘Let’s go.’
He shrugged. ‘Fair enough.’
We walked round to the shelter in silence, and I was thinking, I shouldn’t have been so sharp with him when he’s trying to help me, but all the same, I can’t put myself in his debt like that. I’ve got some pride left, whatever anyone thinks. You get some girls, they’ll go to a man and tell him some pathetic story and get money out of him: there’s a baby coming, or the child’s under the doctor, or they’ve got to get a divorce… I’ve known girls who’ve had as much as fifty pounds from a man that way, but I wouldn’t do it. I thought of telling that to Harry, but he wouldn’t understand. He’d say it’s different, and I suppose it is, in a way, but all the same… Besides, I felt angry with him for offering, and angry with myself, too, for being rude, but I thought, if I try and explain, I won’t be able to say it right.
Outside the shelter, he said, ‘Well, goodnight then,’ and he was off before I’d even opened my mouth.
I went in—crowded again—and sat down. I thought, Well, Rene, whatever daft ideas you had about a decent life for you and Tommy—when Harry don’t know Tommy even exists—you can just forget them, because it ain’t going to happen. Shows you, though, how impossible it is, someone like me and a decent man like that. There’s some things you do in your life that can’t be undone, and whatever happened, Harry’d never forget what I’d been and nor would I, and that’s the truth of it. There’d always be that between us, like a wall. And then I thought, you’re making it all up, Rene, because he’s never said to me about anything like that, has he? Just that he liked me, and kissed me once, and that’s all. Talk about mountains out of molehills!
But I shouldn’t have been so sharp with him, when he was only trying to help. I don’t know why I’m bothering about any of this, really. Perhaps I’m better off with the girls, after all: like should keep to like, makes things easier all round. And the way things are going I won’t be here tomorrow to worry about it, never mind the future. I’d rather have a bomb than wind up like Annie, any day. They say you don’t hear the one that gets you, so at least you wouldn’t know about it, would you? But you’d know if someone was choking the life out of you, all right. Poor old Annie…