‘WELL, JUST LOOK at our Annie,’ said Charlie.
Sunday dinner was over and everything tidied up. The Gaffer was ready to relax with The People, and Charlie, Nellie and Cassie were thinking of going to Ruskin Park, Cassie in the hope that the Prince of Wales would be there, when she could ask him if he’d mind giving her father a job guarding Buckingham Palace on a horse. As for Annie, she’d just come down from her bedroom in a pure white cotton dress with a scalloped hem that lightly danced around her knees. With it she wore a long string of beads and a round straw hat that sat on the back of her head like a crisp yellow halo. The dress, the beads and imitation silk stockings turned her into a fashionable flapper.
‘That’s our Annie?’ said the Gaffer.
‘Ain’t she something, Dad?’ said Nellie. ‘Crikey, look at yer frock, Annie, I never saw that one before.’
‘Oh, I’ve had it ages,’ said Annie. She’d bought it yesterday, in fact, at Hurlocks by the Elephant and Castle during her short midday break. Twenty-four hours could be called ages by any girl not wanting to be accused of dolling herself up on account of a certain young man. ‘Mind, it’s the first time I’ve worn it. D’you like it, Dad?’
‘Looks a treat, Annie,’ said the Gaffer. ‘Must’ve cost a packet, though.’
‘Oh, a bit out of me savings,’ said Annie.
‘Well,’ said the Gaffer solemnly, ‘if you’d ’ad a bit more savings you could ’ave ’ad a bit more frock. I recollect there was an uncomfortable occasion when you were ’ighly embarrassed by the shortness of one of yer other frocks.’
‘Dad, I told you never to mention that again,’ said Annie. ‘Didn’t I tell you?’
‘So yer did, Annie.’
‘Well, I don’t want to ’ave to tell you again, Dad, nor anyone else in this fam’ly. D’you all hear me?’
‘Yes, Annie,’ said Nellie.
‘You Charlie,’ said Annie, ‘what’re you grinnin’ at?’
‘Me?’ said Charlie.
‘Yes, you.’
A knock on the front door made Nellie dart.
‘I’ll answer it,’ she said.
‘I bet it’s ’im,’ said Charlie.
Nellie, finding Will on the doorstep, brought him through to the kitchen. The day being surprisingly balmy, he wore an open-necked cricket shirt, blue jacket, flannel trousers and no hat or cap. He said hello to everyone and took the opportunity to meet Annie’s father and to shake hands with him.
‘So you’re the bloke,’ said the Gaffer, taking a naturally long look at the young man who had wheeled Annie home in a pushcart.
‘The bloke who what?’ smiled Will.
‘Who—’
‘Dad, Annie said you’re not to say,’ warned Nellie.
‘Oh, about the pushcart?’ said Will.
‘Oh, ’e’s been an’ said it,’ breathed Cassie.
‘Askin’ for a wallop from Annie, that is,’ said Charlie.
‘Where is she?’ asked Will.
‘Mister, she’s just there,’ said Cassie.
‘Strike me pink,’ said Will, casting an eye over Annie in her pristine white, ‘that’s Annie? I thought it was someone’s bridesmaid.’
‘No, that’s our Annie,’ said the Gaffer.
‘Don’t take no notice of ’im, Dad,’ said Annie, ‘he’s always talkin’ daft. I don’t know what ’is mum ’as done to deserve a son like him. Nor do I know what I’m doin’ to be goin’ out with him.’
‘Might I have the pleasure of takin’ her to Hyde Park, Mr Ford?’ asked Will.
‘You’re welcome, Will,’ said the Gaffer, smiling.
‘I’ll see he gets ’ome all right, Dad,’ said Annie. ‘I don’t want ’is mum to worry about ’im. I expect she worries a lot about him bein’ barmy. I’ll ’old his hand for ’im when ’e gets off the bus.’
Will grinned. So did the Gaffer.
‘Like the Army, do yer, Will?’ he asked.
‘On and off,’ said Will.
‘Well, we won’t keep yer,’ said the Gaffer, ‘off yer go with Sergeant-Major Annie.’
‘Oh, you just wait till I get back, Dad,’ said Annie.
‘Crumbs,’ breathed Cassie, ‘is Annie goin’ to wallop our dad, Nellie?’
‘Not till she gets back,’ said Nellie, giggling. She and Cassie went to the front door to see the couple depart. They watched them walking up the street, Annie’s light dress fluttering, her legs shining.
‘Don’t they look nice?’ said Cassie. ‘I expect they might meet Lord Percy in the park.’
‘Who’s Lord Percy?’ asked Nellie.
‘I don’t know, I just read ’is name somewhere,’ said Cassie dreamily.
The rowing-boat moved in a slow jerking fashion over the sunlit waters of the Serpentine. Will was exerting himself economically on the oars. Other boats skimmed or floundered according to skill or lack of it. Annie was in charge of the rudder. It was her first time in a rowing-boat, and there was water, water everywhere, plus the challenge of steering. She liked a challenge, however. Will had explained how to use the ropes, and she took up her fearsome responsibility with resolution. So far, they’d only collided with one boat after narrowly missing another, which she thought their fault, anyway, not hers.
Will was enjoying the outing, the March day was really warm, the Serpentine a pond-like playground. Laughter, yells and recriminations were constant on all sides.
‘You Cissie, you’ll drown us in a minute.’
‘’Erbert, stop splashin’ me, d’you ’ear?’
‘Blimey O’Reilly, some mothers do ’ave ’em, Alice, but fancy yours ’aving one like you.’
‘Fancy yours not chuckin’ you back under the gooseberry bush, Danny.’
Will liked Annie as a spectacle of early spring. Her self-confidence tickled him. She was sure other boats were at fault when a bump looked likely. She sat upright, hands holding the rudder ropes, her eyes alight. Will, pulling gently on the oars, smiled at her.
‘Excuse me,’ said Annie, ‘but would you mind lookin’ where we’re goin’?’
‘Annie, you’re the one who has to look where we’re goin’,’ he said. ‘I can only look at where we’re comin’ from.’
‘You sure that’s where you’re lookin’?’ asked Annie, all too aware her legs were right in front of his eyes. ‘I suppose you haven’t got lookingitis, have you?’
‘Is it my fault you’re only wearin’ half a dress?’ grinned Will.
‘Listen,’ said Annie, ‘this dress is highly fashionable.’
‘Highly? Shortish, I’d say.’
‘Still, I’m pleasured you like it – here, watch yourselves, you two!’ Annie raised an indignant voice to a boat bearing down on them. Will turned his head.
‘Pull with your right hand, Annie,’ he said.
Annie pulled. The boats collided. Her legs went up in the air.
‘’Ere, mate,’ said a young gent in a Hackney accent, ‘would yer mind tellin’ yer lidy driver to watch what she’s a-doin’ of?’
‘How’s your own driver?’ asked Will, keeping the boat steady with his oars.
‘Glad you asked, mate,’ said the young gent, pulling with one oar and pushing with the other. ‘She’s keen, I tell yer that. Yer keen, ain’t yer, Clara?’ he said to his girlfriend, who was pretty, plump and fairly sporty.
‘Well, a girl can only get drowned once,’ she said, and the young gent eyed Annie, who was right way up again, but considerably put out.
‘Like to swop drivers, mate?’ he asked Will.
‘What’s he mean, swop drivers?’ demanded Annie.
‘He means he fancies you,’ said Will. ‘How about you?’ he asked the plump and sporty girl. ‘D’you feel like swoppin’?’
‘Well, you look all right,’ she said, ‘but can I trust yer? I can’t trust Nobby; ’e squeezes me in all the places I didn’t know I ’ad.’
‘I don’t know if Annie would go for that,’ said Will, with the boats paddling around each other.
Annie, hardly able to believe what she was hearing, said, ‘I certainly wouldn’t. What d’you think I am?’
‘You look a bit of all right from where I’m sittin’,’ said the young Hackney gent.
‘You’ll be sittin’ in the Serpentine in a minute,’ said Annie. ‘You’re common, and clumsy as well. You shouldn’t be allowed in a boat. Will Brown, kindly start rowin’.’
‘So long,’ said Will to the matey couple, and rowed away.
‘What d’you mean talkin’ about that fat girl and me swoppin’?’ asked Annie.
‘Just passin’ the time of day with them,’ said Will.
‘Did you bump into them on purpose just to get my legs up in the air?’
‘I’ll be frank,’ said Will, rowing without pushing himself. ‘I like a bit of a treat. You don’t get to see too many legs in India. Cows’ legs, yes, but they’re not much of a treat, except to bulls, I suppose. By the way, the bump happened because you pulled on the left rope, not the right. Where’re you takin’ us now?’ He turned his head again, then pulled hard on his left oar to avoid another collision. Annie tugged on a rope. By the grace of God it was the correct one, and they floated by the oncoming boat. But Will’s sudden muscular pull brought on a familiar warning. He gritted his teeth. Of all things he didn’t want an attack to turn him into a wheezing old man in front of a healthy young girl. Sod it, he thought, I’m going to be a sorry case for the rest of my life if I can’t even row a slow boat round the Serpentine. He eased on the oars, paddling with them, waiting for an attack to follow the warning. Much to his relief, his breathing remained normal. He paddled on, towards the boat park.
Annie asked if they were going in. Will said they might as well, their time was nearly up and he fancied a little walk to the refreshment rooms. Would she like some tea? Annie’s response was happily in the affirmative.
The tea rooms, always well patronized on fine Sundays, were crowded, but they found a table, and Will ordered a pot of tea, buttered fruit buns and slices of fruit cake. Annie enjoyed the occasion tremendously, and told Will he was being really nice to her. Will said so why had she poured him only a half-cup of tea? Annie said it wasn’t good manners to have full cups in places like this.
‘Blow good manners,’ said Will.
‘You’ve got to have good manners in public,’ said Annie, who always remembered that although her lively mum enjoyed a laugh and a joke, she wouldn’t stand for any misbehaviour, especially in public.
‘You think a couple of mouthfuls of tea add up to good manners, you dotty girl?’ said Will.
Annie made a decision there and then. She decided, definitely, that her dad was right, that it was time she had a young man, and that the only one she’d like to have was Will. Accordingly, she had to stop letting him confuse her, and take him in hand, just as if he was her young man.
‘I hope you’re not goin’ to make a scene at your age, Will Brown,’ she said amid the chatter and clatter of the tea rooms. ‘I’m sure your mum wouldn’t like you makin’ a scene when you’re takin’ a young lady out. You can have more tea when you’ve finished that – oh, and would you like me to butter your bun for you?’
‘Would you repeat that?’ asked Will.
‘Yes, I’ll do it for you,’ said Annie. It was, to her, a quite natural way of taking him in hand, of letting him see that as his young lady she didn’t mind doing things for him. Will watched in amusement as she took his bun, sliced it in half, buttered both halves and gave it back to him. ‘There, you can eat it now,’ she said. ‘Imagine, real butter and all. Will, don’t you think you ought to take your elbow off the table in a place like this?’
‘Here, half a mo’,’ said Will, ‘are you tryin’ to be a mother to me?’
‘Course not, you silly,’ said Annie, ‘how could I be your mother at my age?’
‘I’ve still got a funny feelin’ you’re tryin’ it on,’ said Will.
‘Eat your bun,’ said Annie. ‘Isn’t it nice in ’ere, Will?’
‘Yes, Mother, very nice,’ said Will.
Annie smiled. She enjoyed every moment of the tea, and was kind and gracious to her young man, letting him see she didn’t act like a common person in public. Will, of course, had a terrible time trying not to laugh. He had a feeling, in any case, that a full-blooded laugh wouldn’t do his chest any good. Little danger signals kept hovering.
Annie lingered over the tea because of her enjoyment. She made Will tell her about his family, all of them, and in return she told him any amount of things about her sisters, her brother and her dad, including what an imagination Cassie had and what a kind and homely man her dad was.
The waitress arrived with the bill.
‘Everything all right, sir?’ she asked.
‘Yes, thanks, we’ll come again, me and Mother,’ said Will.
‘Who?’ asked the waitress, glancing at Annie.
‘Don’t take any notice,’ said Annie, ‘my young man’s a bit funny at times.’
‘So’s my young lady,’ said Will, and Annie experienced little tingles of pleasure. She watched him as he paid the bill, giving the waitress a tip, and she thought oh, he’s really nice, I don’t mind now how much he looks at me in my highly fashionable frocks. When they left she was very gracious in her thanks.
‘It was a lovely tea,’ she said, ‘and you behaved really nice.’
‘I had to,’ said Will. ‘Mother was watching me.’
Annie laughed, then said he’d still got room for improvement.
Will, strolling through the park with her on their way to the bus stop, said he’d do his best. Annie said she hoped he would, as she didn’t want to walk out with any young man who had as much sauce as he did. Mind you, she said, I expect there’s some young men a lot worse. That sounds as if there’s hope for me, said Will. Oh, I think you’ve got the makings, said Annie graciously.
They enjoyed a very companionable bus ride home, with Annie’s shining knees showing, and both knees didn’t mind him looking. When they reached her doorstep, she was surprised and disappointed that he wouldn’t come in. He’d trot off to his own home, he said. Annie wondered if he’d kiss her, but he didn’t, nor did he say a word about seeing her again, and that left her very miffed. Will, however, had symptoms to fight, and they reached their inevitable peak the moment he opened his front door. He took himself straight up to his bedroom, and there his attack took its coughing, crippling hold of him. His mum came up.
‘Will, we can hear you coughin’ all over the house,’ she said in concern.
‘Give us – a minute – be all right – in a minute.’
‘Can’t I do something, lovey?’
Will couldn’t reply, he was trying to suck in air. He’d taken one of the prescribed tablets and could only wait for it to work. He made a gesture, and Mrs Brown did the sensible thing. She left him to his privacy. As she went downstairs she thought, I hope it’s not consumption, I just hope it’s not, I’ll have something to say to the Army if they’ve helped to give him consumption. No wonder he’s gone up to his room instead of coming to tell us about his girl Annie.
Will was thinking, I’m a hopeless case, and that’s a fact. I’m going to be as useful to myself or anyone else as a saucepan with a ruddy great hole in it.
Freddy had had a mixed-up afternoon himself. Calling on his new mate, Cassie, he found she was just about to go to Ruskin Park with Charlie and Nellie. He offered to take her on his bike. His mum had said he could do that as long as he didn’t use the main road, where young boys on bikes could make tram drivers have fifty fits and give bus drivers nightmares. So he’d promised to get to the park through the back streets, which was easy.
‘Oh, yes, I’ll come with you, Freddy,’ said Cassie.
‘’Elp yerself to ’er company, Freddy,’ said the Gaffer, looking forward to putting his feet up with his Sunday paper.
‘’Ere,’ said Charlie to Freddy, ‘you don’t go out with girls, do yer?’
‘No, just me mates,’ said Freddy.
‘What yer goin’ out with me sister for, then?’ asked Charlie, puzzled but not aggressive.
‘She’s me new mate,’ said Freddy.
‘But she’s a girl,’ said Charlie.
‘Well, that ain’t ’er fault,’ said Freddy, ‘she was born like it. Me mum was born a girl. Course, she’s a woman now.’
‘Blimey,’ said Charlie, ‘you sure you ain’t feelin’ unwell?’
‘You Charlie,’ said Nellie, ‘leave Freddy be. ’E can ’ave Cassie for ’is mate if ’e wants.’
‘Well, I ain’t complainin’ about it, am I?’ said Charlie. ‘I’m just askin’ ’im if ’e’s all there.’
‘Freddy looks all there to me,’ said the Gaffer.
‘Well, I ain’t been taken’ away yet, Mr Ford,’ said Freddy. ‘You ready, Cassie?’
‘I’ll just get me cat,’ said Cassie.
‘Not likely,’ said Freddy, ‘we ain’t takin’ that barmy cat up the park with us. I don’t mind yer takin’ a cushion, but not yer cat.’
‘All right, I’ll just get me ’at,’ said Cassie, and left the kitchen.
‘I wish yer luck, Freddy, yer’ll need it,’ said Charlie, and went off to the park with Nellie, Nellie hoping to get off and Charlie hoping to find a few boys who needed bashing.
Freddy went out to mind his bike. Cassie appeared at the open front door and chucked a cushion at him to put on the carrier. Vanishing again, she reappeared with Tabby in her arms.
‘Now look ’ere, Cassie—’
‘’E wants to come,’ said Cassie. ‘I asked ’im.’
‘’E’s a talkin’ cat now, is ’e?’ said Freddy. ‘Listen, as me mate you’re supposed to do what I tell yer.’
‘Me dad never said so. Freddy, Tabby wants to come, and I’ve got ’is string.’
‘Oh, all right,’ said Freddy, who had some of his mum’s good nature, ‘but I ain’t ’aving ’im sit on me ’andlebars, you’ll ’ave to ’old him.’
‘Yes, I’ll ’old him to me bosom,’ said Cassie, whose imagination embraced a multitude of fancies. Getting astride the cushioned carrier with Tabby clasped to her, she added, ‘Did yer know they could only tell the Sleepin’ Beauty was actu’ally still alive because ’er bosom was ’eaving?’
‘Oh, gawd,’ said Freddy, but away he went, round to Portland Street and on to Wells Way. He cut through Church Road and other back streets to reach Champion Park, almost opposite the entrance to Ruskin Park. Cassie hummed a song all the way, and Tabby purred at her bosom. Or rather, her bosom-to-be.
At the park-keepers’ hut just inside the entrance, Freddy asked if they’d mind his bike.
‘Come again, me young lord?’ said a park-keeper, smart in his brown uniform and brown bowler.
‘Yes, could yer mind me bike, please, if I leave it ’ere? Only I can’t take it round the park, it says so on the notice.’
‘Well, me lord, what it also says on that there notice is that it ain’t incumbent on me to mind bikes.’
‘I ain’t never seen that on the notice,’ said Freddy.
‘You sure you ain’t?’ said the park-keeper.
‘Honest,’ said Freddy.
‘Well, blow me braces,’ said the park-keeper, ‘then I suppose I’ll ’ave to think about mindin’ it – here, wait a bit, what’s that girl doin’?’
‘Oh, she’s just putting ’er cat on a piece of string so’s she can walk ’im round the park,’ said Freddy.
‘Gawd love us,’ said the park-keeper, ‘mindin’ bikes, cats on pieces of string, I’m hearin’ things. I’ll be hearin’ an elephant on a yard of elastic next. Might I refer yer young lordship to the notice again?’
‘Mister, I dunno it says anything about elephants,’ said Freddy.
‘No cats or dogs, that’s what it says – here, where’s she goin’?’
Cassie was away, walking, the cat following on its string lead.
‘I’ll go after ’er, mister, an’ tell ’er,’ said Freddy.
‘You do that, me lord, and quick,’ said the park-keeper, ‘because if she runs into me superintendent, he’ll drown the cat and ’er as well. And he’ll sell yer bike in aid of the starvin’ poor, of which I’m one.’
Freddy grinned. The park-keeper winked. Freddy ran in chase of Cassie. He caught her up. People were staring at the girl with a cat in tow. Boys were cackling and offering comments.
‘What yer got there, a walkin’ canary?’
‘’Ere, Lulu, yer bein’ follered.’
‘Does yer muvver know yer out?’
‘Listen, Cassie, no cats nor dogs,’ said Freddy. ‘Nor elephants. We’ll ’ave to take Tabby back and ask the park-keeper to mind it. ’E’s mindin’ me bike, so I expect ’e’ll mind yer cat as well.’
‘Tabby don’t like bein’ minded by park-keepers,’ said Cassie.
‘Well, if yer don’t take ’im back—’
‘Freddy, d’you think we might meet a lord or something? I just saw a lady lookin’ like a Spanish senrika that was once captured by an ’andsome pirate that was really the Prince of Wales.’
‘What’s a Spanish senrika?’ asked Freddy.
‘Oh, an ’igh-born lady,’ said Cassie. ‘She was ever so upset at bein’ captured because she was supposed to be meetin’ an ’igh-born duke that was in love with ’er.’
‘Well, I’m sorry about ’er ’ard luck,’ said Freddy, ‘but we’ve got to take yer cat back, and besides, everyone’s lookin’. Cassie, I’ve got to tell yer, Tabby looks barmy on a piece of string.’
‘No, ’e don’t,’ said Cassie, taking absolutely no notice of looks, stares, comments and giggles. ‘Of course, the Spanish senrika didn’t mind when she found it was the Prince of Wales who’d captured ’er. If we see ’im in the park, I’m goin’ to ask ’im if me dad can guard Buckingham Palace on an ’orse for him.’
‘’Adn’t you better ask ’im first ’ow he got on with the Spanish senrika?’ said Freddy, trying a bit of sarcasm. ‘Now look ’ere, Cassie, I never ’ad any trouble with me other mate, Daisy Cook—’
‘Mummy, mummy,’ cried a little girl, ‘look, she’s got a cat.’
‘Well, she shouldn’t ’ave,’ said the maternal parent, ‘it’s not allowed, so come ’ere, I don’t want you ’aving anything to do with what’s not allowed.’
‘There, yer see, Cassie?’ said Freddy. There’ll be a bloomin’ riot in a minute.’
‘Course there won’t,’ said Cassie, ‘it’s Sunday. The King don’t allow riots on Sundays. Me dad told me so.’
Tabby’s head suddenly slipped the string. The animal whisked in front of Cassie and ran into the path of a handsome lady in a flowery dress and a hat shaped like a pudding basin. Without hesitating, it sprang upwards into her arms, much to her startled astonishment. It purred blissfully.
Cassie stopped. Freddy stopped. Beside the handsome lady was a man who looked strong enough to squash Tabby with one blow. He also looked as if he was prepared to do just that.
‘Ruddy blind ’ow’djerdo’s,’ he said ‘now it’s kids with climbin’ cats in the park, would yer believe.’
Cassie and Freddy stared and blinked. It was actually him again, the man who’d knocked them off the bike some days ago. It’s like bloomin’ doom, thought Freddy.
‘Oh, ’elp,’ he breathed.
‘It’s all right, Henry,’ said Madge. Henry was taking her for an enjoyable saunter round the park, and she was going to give him Sunday tea at the flat later.
Henry Brannigan inspected the boy and girl, laying his dark eyes first on Freddy, then on Cassie. Little glints appeared, glints of recognition.
‘What’s the idea?’ he said. ‘In me way again, are yer? Lucky for you this ain’t a pavement.’ The park paths were surfaced with tarmac.
‘Henry, what’re you goin’ on at them for?’ asked Madge, handing the cat back to Cassie.
They’re haunting me, these two kids, that’s what they’re doing, thought Henry Brannigan.
‘Cats ain’t allowed in parks, nor dogs,’ he said.
‘Nor’s elephants,’ said Freddy, ‘the park-keeper down by the gate just told me so.’
The handsome lady laughed at that, and even the man looked as if he had a bit of a grin on his face.
‘We’re sorry our cat jumped on yer, missus,’ said Cassie nervously.
‘That’s all right, I like cats,’ said Madge.
‘Yes, all right, but just watch it, yer young perishers,’ said Henry Brannigan, and resumed his saunter with Madge.
‘Freddy, that was ’im,’ whispered Cassie, cuddling Tabby.
‘Don’t I know it,’ said Freddy, ‘except ’e ’ad a Sunday suit on. Listen, what d’yer mean by sayin’ it’s our cat? It’s yours. I wouldn’t want a barmy cat like that, I’d sooner ’ave an ’eadache. I – oh, crikey, Cassie, there’s a park-keeper comin’. Come on, bunk down ’ere.’
They did a quick bunk down a path that took them past the public conveniences. They met Nellie, who’d found a school friend, and together they’d found four boys who fancied having a lark with them. Nellie and her friend Pam didn’t go in for larks, so the boys were settling for saucy chat and the girls were settling for giggles. Nellie wanted nothing to do with Cassie, not while she had her daft cat with her, so that left Freddy still in charge of her. He perforce had to keep her out of trouble. It almost wore him out. His old mate Daisy Cook hadn’t ever been a trial to him. Nor had she ever talked about her dad being an executioner at the Tower of London. Cassie was insistent that that was what her dad had been.
‘Yes, ’e ’ad to execute people that run off with the Crown Jewels,’ she said. ‘The King put ’im in charge of them.’
‘I bet that was a worry to ’im’, said Freddy, ‘I bet it didn’t do ’is white ’air any good. Still, it must’ve got better, I noticed it’s not white any more.’
‘Yes, it made a recov’ry,’ said Cassie.
Freddy took her home then, while he still had the strength to ride his bike. The park-keeper who had minded it for him turned a blind eye on Cassie’s cat as she sneaked through the gate with it.