ANNIE WOKE UP, looked sleepily at the little tin alarm clock, found it was only five past six, turned over, thought about Cassie, murmured in dreamy relief, thought about Will, wondered about him, and drifted back into sleep.
Cassie’s cat woke up, sprang on to the bed she shared with Nellie, curled itself up close to the hump of her warm body and purred itself to sleep again, perhaps to dream about Mrs Boddy’s lady cat.
The Gaffer woke up and got up. He was on an early shift this morning, but would finish at twelve. He looked in on Cassie. Sleeping like an angel next to Nellie. Should he stay home, just in case she woke up with upset feelings? Yes, he would. Only right. Then Annie could go off to her job without worrying. It was his place to stay home, not Annie’s. Annie was looking forward to going to that wedding dance this evening. She was fond of Will, the Gaffer knew that. He’d asked her yesterday morning exactly what she thought of Will as a bloke. Well, Annie had said, he’s my kind of bloke in most ways, he just wants talking to, that’s all. Talking to about what? I’m giving it deep thought, said Annie.
A little later, Will woke up, thought about the fact that he hadn’t had an attack after kissing Annie last night and wondered if he should take another look at himself.
Susie woke to the dawning of a sunny Easter Saturday and to the necessity of being at the hairdresser’s with Sally by nine o’clock. And to saying love, honour and obey. She smiled.
Sammy woke to the dawning of married life, and to the probability that it was going to ruin his pocket. But he had a singular feeling that his pocket didn’t seem to care.
Freddy woke and thought about Cassie. Crikey, it was hardly believable what had happened. He’d cycle round after breakfast to see her and to tell her she could come to the wedding breakfast. His mum had said so, and that there was a place at the tables for her because Miss Simms had dropped out. If he’d cycled round yesterday, instead of letting her walk round to him, that old geezer Mr Ponsonby wouldn’t have made off with her. But she’d insisted she’d come round to him. Freddy guessed why now. She’d had her barmy cat with her, she’d have arrived at his house with it and he wouldn’t have been able to do anything about it. A bloke’s mate didn’t ought to be a problem to him. He couldn’t thump her, seeing she was a girl. Still, he could talk to her, although he had a feeling it would be like talking to the empty air. Crikey, it was Susie’s wedding day today.
Mrs Brown woke to see her husband bringing a morning cup of tea to her, bless him.
Mr Greenberg, waking, thought about the privilege of carting Susie and Sammy to their Christian wedding breakfast. That reminded him his own wedding was in the offing. Should a free man take to his heels or dwell on the compensation available? The widow Hannah Borovich was splendidly handsome and also an excellent cook. But would her three growing sons eat him out of house and home? Life was a torment to a man when he had to consider taking to his heels or fulfilling the marriage contract. Ah, me, thought Mr Greenberg. He arose, washed himself, put on some old clothes, ate a simple breakfast and then went to the Old Kent Road stables to brush down his pony and polish the little cart.
Chinese Lady woke up beside her husband, Edwin Finch, recently returned from what she thought of as the Frenchified Continent, where he’d spent some months on Government business. It was nice, having him beside her again. It was what God had ordered for a woman, having a providing husband beside her. She meant ordained, of course. She smiled. It was Sammy’s wedding day. That Sammy, with his sauce, it was time he found there was more to life than making money. Susie was just right for him, she’d become as ladylike as Lizzy had, and she had enough sense to see to it that Sammy turned into a responsible husband, father and provider. That was what any real man was born to be. God’s orders were very strict.
Will received an official letter that morning. It informed him that as he was medically unfit for further service, he was to receive his discharge papers at the termination of his three months leave, together with back pay due to him. There was a formal acknowledgement of his past services to the Army, but no mention of a disablement pension. The family said what a rotten lot the Army high-ups were, and Sally said she hoped their roof would fall in on them and disable them all. Mrs Brown said well, let’s look on the bright side, Will doesn’t have to go to India any more, nor get fired at. It’s dangerous, getting fired at, said Mr Brown. Yes, I just told you so, said Mrs Brown. You’ll be all right, Will, she said, it’s good news really, specially on Susie’s wedding day. She said nothing about Mr Ponsonby, nor did any of them.
As soon as he’d had his breakfast, Freddy cycled round to Blackwood Street. There he found Cassie in the pink, the pet of her family.
‘’Ello, Freddy, where you been?’ she asked.
‘Well, I like that,’ said Freddy, ‘I ain’t been anywhere except in me bed an’ then ’aving me breakfast.’ He looked at her father. ‘Is she all right, Mr Ford?’
‘Right as rain,’ said the Gaffer.
‘She’s our sunshine girl this mornin’,’ said Annie.
‘That Mister Po’s’by,’ said Cassie, ‘’e put something over me face, Freddy, and I don’t remember any more.’
Freddy could have said a lot about Mr Ponsonby. His dad had passed on the news given to him by Boots, but his mum had told him not to say anything in front of Cassie. Mr Ford and Annie weren’t saying anything themselves, although Freddy knew it was all in the newspapers this morning. Well, it was in Dad’s paper, and had caused his mum to say she hoped the guests wouldn’t all talk about it at the wedding. It was a blessing that Mr Ponsonby’s name hadn’t been mentioned, she said, or the whole neighbourhood would be coming round to stare at the Mason house, where he’d been lodging. The paper just said a man was being held in custody. It was another blessing too that Cassie’s name wasn’t in the paper either, and that the police were working to identify the two dead girls.
The Gaffer’s morning paper had sensational headlines. He’d shown the paper to Annie, and they were keeping it to themselves for the time being.
As it was, Cassie seemed herself. Her only complaint was that she’d felt sick when she woke up. She was happy to tell Freddy that her cat had come back, and that she thought Mrs Boddy’s lady cat might have gone and fetched him home. Freddy said he wouldn’t be surprised. He also said Cassie could come to the wedding breakfast, his mum had told him to invite her. Cassie nearly fell over in her delight. Annie, due to go to work for the day, told her dad to make sure Cassie was dressed in her Sunday best, and that Nellie could see to it that Cassie’s hair looked nice, with a clean ribbon. Freddy said he’d come and fetch her, otherwise she might go wandering off and end up at Peckham Rye. Cassie said Queen Alice went to Peckham Rye once. Nellie asked who Queen Alice was. Cassie said she’d never met her, she’d just read about her, and that she went to Peckham Rye to meet a magician. She wanted him to cast a spell on a wicked witch and make her disappear, only when she got to Peckham Rye, he wasn’t there. Charlie asked what had happened to him. Cassie said he’d already cast his spell, only it had gone wrong and he’d made himself disappear and no-one ever saw him again.
Cassie was back to normal.
She was so much herself that she asked Freddy if she could bring Tabby to the wedding. Annie said no, Cassie love, you just can’t take a cat to a wedding.
‘But ’e likes weddings,’ said Cassie.
‘Still, leave ’im at home, me pet,’ said the Gaffer, ‘and ’e might ’ave a weddin’ of his own, with Mrs Boddy’s lady cat.’
Cassie giggled. Annie began to get ready to go to work, and Freddy, after telling Cassie he’d come for her at a quarter to twelve, went back home to do any wedding errands that were necessary.
Just after eleven, Boots answered the phone.
‘Is that Mr Adams?’
‘Speaking,’ said Boots.
‘Inspector Grant here, Mr Adams. Sorry to interrupt, I know you’ve a wedding on today, but I thought I ought to speak to you.’ Inspector Grant sounded as if his nerves had just taken a hammering.
‘What about?’ asked Boots.
‘The fact is, Ponsonby’s slipped us.’
‘What? I’m to believe you’ve been as careless as that?’
‘Bloody inexcusable. He got out through the lavatory window at the station an hour ago. I’m there now. If you could see the size of the window you’d wonder how anyone could have managed it. But he did, the slippery bugger. We’re looking for him, of course, and not sparing the manpower, but he’s a peculiar character and I don’t like the thought of what he might get up to.’
‘You’re not asking me to join the search, are you?’
‘No, no, not at all, Mr Adams. But he doesn’t like you, he doesn’t like the fact that you interfered, to start with.’
‘He calls that interference, does he?’ said Boots.
‘Intolerable interference, Mr Adams, those were his words. Nor does he like you for knocking him out and handing him over to us. He’s got a vindictive streak, and I’ve a nasty feeling it’ll be aimed at you. Or your daughter. Unless we can find him first.’
‘Thanks very much for that slice of cheerful news,’ said Boots. ‘Does he know I’ve got a daughter?’
‘When we brought him to the station yesterday evening, Mr Adams, your daughter was waiting with the taxi driver. You were with us. Your daughter greeted you.’
‘Well, damn that for what it means,’ said Boots.
‘Mr Adams, we’ll do our very best to round the man up, and I’ll let you know immediately we do. ‘I’ll have someone contact you at the wedding, if necessary. Meanwhile, can I ask you to take great care of yourself and your daughter? Ponsonby doesn’t look dangerous, but you and I know he is.’
‘If I were him,’ said Boots, ‘I’d be running for my life, not thinking about having my own back. But as I’m not him, I’ll watch out. Thanks for letting me know, Inspector.’
‘I’m bloody sick,’ said Inspector Grant, and rang off.
Boots steeled himself to face the day.
The ceremony was for twelve o’clock. At ten minutes to, St John’s Church was full to overflowing for the wedding of two people who, having been born and bred in Walworth, had risen from poverty to become, respectively, an affluent young lady and a highly reputable businessman. Susie Brown was just about the poshest young lady to be seen in Walworth, and Sammy Adams, well, what a bright spark he’d always been. But they never turned their noses up at any of their old friends and neighbours.
Mrs Brown in a spring coat and a new toque hat, sat with Will and Freddy in the front pew on the left side of the aisle. Cassie, in her best Sunday dress and a little round straw hat, sat as a special treat between Will and Freddy.
In the front pew on the right sat Sammy and Boots, the best man. Boots, with Ponsonby on his mind, had brought Rosie to the church along with himself and Sammy. He’d been able to calm Sammy’s nerves by telling him to think of how to cut the overheads on the new contract with Coates. Good idea, said Sammy, your dad’s quite bright sometimes, Rosie. I know, said Rosie, I live an awful trying life trying to get the better of him.
Behind Sammy and Boots sat Chinese Lady, her husband Mr Finch, Emily and Emily’s four-year-old son Tim. Also present were brown-eyed, glossy-haired Lizzy, her husband Ned Somers and three of their children, Bobby, Emma and Edward. Their eldest, Annabelle, was a bridesmaid, along with Rosie and Sally. Then there were Tommy and his wife Vi. Their daughter Alice, eleven months old, was in the care of neighbours, and Vi was just over four months pregnant with her second child. Next to them were Vi’s parents, known to the family as Aunt Victoria and Uncle Tom. Aunt Victoria was inclined to find fault, though not as much as she used to, and Uncle Tom, bluff and equable, was inclined to turn a deaf ear.
Chinese Lady, Emily, Lizzy, Vi and yes, even Aunt Victoria, were all wearing new outfits purchased at Sammy’s Brixton shop at such an horrendous family discount that he said he’d never lost that much profit in all his life. You’re breaking my heart, said Lizzy. I feel for you, said Sammy, but that kind of thing can undermine the firm’s financial foundations and ruin the whole family. Emily said there would have been no fun in the transactions if Sammy hadn’t mentioned something about the discount ruining him. He thanked her for her kind words. Aunt Victoria said she wasn’t sure that she couldn’t have done better at Bon Marché of Brixton. Uncle Tom said only at twice the cost, so Aunt Victoria changed the subject. Chinese Lady told Sammy he’d got a cheek to let his shop manageress charge her at all. Me, your own mother, she said, you’re heading for purgatory, my lad. I suppose I’ll have to start up a new kind of business when I get there, Ma, said Sammy. Don’t call me Ma, said Chinese Lady, it’s common, and I didn’t bring you up to be common. However, Vi was so delighted with her outfit and the huge discount that she gave Sammy tuppence, which entitled her to give him two smacking kisses. Sammy was so touched he gave her a penny back.
At five minutes to twelve, with the church waiting for the arrival of the bride, Boots got up and walked along the side aisle to the open doors. The three bridesmaids were there, with the vicar. In their cerise pink, all three girls looked enchanting. Sally, suffering a crush on Boots, blushed as he smiled at her.
‘Daddy, it can’t be all over,’ said Rosie, ‘Aunt Susie hasn’t arrived yet.’
‘I’ll tell your Uncle Sammy that,’ said Boots, and spoke a few words to the vicar while looking around. He’d noticed a policeman outside the church, a uniformed constable. He was still there. A few people were at the gates, waiting to see the bride. Boots felt the constable was a safeguard for Rosie, and rejoined Sammy.
Mrs Rachel Goodman sat in a pew with Mr Greenberg, and neither felt out of place in this Christian church simply because they did not feel out of place with a family of gentiles whom they had known for years and had come to love. Rachel wore a midnight blue costume and hat, as close to black as she could get in letting Sammy see she was in mourning for the imminent loss of his bachelor status. Mr Greenberg, in handsome grey, looked a figure of solemn and august maturity. A nephew of his had charge of the pony and cart for the duration of the service.
Rachel wondered why Polly Simms wasn’t present. She knew she’d been invited. She also knew the brittle and amusing Polly was incurably attached to Boots. They’d both served in the war, and they had a shared experience of its horrors. But Polly would never get Boots. Rachel knew the family so well she was absolutely certain none of Chinese Lady’s diverting sons would indulge in an affair. And Boots had fine steel beneath his easy-going exterior. Was Polly not going to attend the wedding because she could no longer stand being on the outside of the family?
The church was buzzing, not only in anticipation of the bride, but because of newspaper headlines. A man was being held in custody over the murder of a young girl in Bermondsey and two right here in Walworth. Horrible. Still, Mrs Brown didn’t look too upset about it.
Susie was punctual. She had made up her mind not to be late for her wedding. At two minutes past twelve, the organist turned his head. Sammy and Boots came to their feet, and the whole church rose as the Wedding March began to peal out. The vicar, the Reverend Edwards, a rosy-faced and gentle man of God, entered in the van of the bridal procession. Susie was on her dad’s arm, and her dad, gammy leg and all, looked as if the Queen of Sheba couldn’t have made a better bride than his Susie. Her gown of white silk was soft, shimmering and flowing, her little circular headdress of white silk roses supporting a full veil. Slowly she floated, Sally behind her, Rosie and Annabelle following, all bridesmaids holding little bouquets, circlets of pink silk roses adorning their heads. Sammy, Boots and Ned had covered the expense of outfitting the bridesmaids.
Mr Greenberg, turning his head, beamed at Susie. Rachel emitted a little sigh. Emily, watching the advance, thought of her own wedding, a wartime one, when Boots was still blind and she had had to be his guide and his mainstay. They had had a good marriage, hadn’t they? She hoped so, even if she was in doubt of herself sometimes. Needing reassurance, she received it from him, and unfailing affection too, to help her through her illness.
Mr Brown brought Susie to her bridegroom and relinquished her, not without a little throaty swallow.
Sammy whispered to the bridal veil.
‘Is that you in there, Susie?’
‘It’s me, Sammy.’
‘Bless you, then.’
‘Bless you too, Sammy.’
Boots smiled. Sammy and Susie were always going to be a star turn together.
The ceremony over, the photographer posed the principals and their retinue outside the church and in the bright sunshine. Susie had her veil over her head, her eyes a bright sparkling blue, her bouquet colourful against the white of her gown. Sammy’s smile was that of a businessman who had just signed the most valuable contract of his life, never mind the crippling overheads. The forecourt was crowded with people, and there were others outside the church gates.
Henry Brannigan, on his way home from his Saturday morning’s work, checked his measured stride and took a look at the scene on the forecourt. He saw scores of people in their glad rags, and a shimmering bride with a lovely laughing face. A ruddy wedding. Still, they weren’t in his way. He eyed the newly-weds on the church steps and listened to the shouted remarks of amateur comics. He took in the enchantment of the young bridesmaids. He gave them their due, they were sweet-looking right enough, but he’d bet they took their turns every day to get in people’s way. All kids did. Still, he had to admit girl kids could look like angels as bridesmaids. They didn’t always grow up like angels. One or two did. Come to think of it, Madge wasn’t far short of being an angel of cheerfulness. Good company, she was, not moody, like his wife had been at times.
Look at the kids there. Little terrors they probably were, but look at them now with their clean faces. Madge was keen on kids. She hadn’t given herself much of a chance to have any.
He walked away, his mood thoughtful. Ruddy hell, he was treading on lines. He adjusted his step. Too late now, though. He’d have to watch out for bad luck. Wait a tick, no bad luck had caught up with him after he’d trodden on that line outside a baker’s shop the other day. Far from it. Not only had he been made foreman, but this morning the works manager had told him he’d already proved himself and the job was his for good. On top of that, when he was up a ladder an hour later to gauge the best way for the gang to tackle a dismantling piece of work, one of the sods had kicked the ladder from under him. Accidental, of course, you bet it wasn’t. He might have broken his neck, but he didn’t even bruise himself in the fall. If that wasn’t a large slice of good luck, what was? He’d spoken to the ganger, he’d delivered himself of a few choice words, and he knew it wouldn’t happen again.
Life had turned round for him. He reckoned that was all due to Madge. His lucky charm, that’s what she was.
Henry Brannigan began to tread on lines with careless abandon.
The photographs had been taken, and Mr Greenberg, having received permission from the vicar, drove his sleek pony and polished cart into the forecourt. The guests made way for him and he pulled up outside the church doors. Lifting his hat, he beamed down at Susie.
‘Vhy, ain’t it Mrs Sammy Adams, I presume?’ he said.
‘Hello, Mr Greenberg,’ smiled Susie.
‘Might I have the pleasure of cartin’ you and Sammy off to the place of reception? My vord, Susie, vhat a pleasure, ain’t it?’
‘Oh, it’s a handsome offer, Mr Greenberg,’ said Susie.
Boots, his hand on Rosie’s shoulder, watched as Sammy helped his bride up into the cart. Sammy looked at Emily, all huge green eyes that seemed a little moist. Leaving aside Chinese Lady, Emily was first among the wives. Boots was the first of the brothers, and Sammy and Tommy acknowledged he had always worn his seniority with distinction. That made Emily the first lady of the family, again leaving aside Chinese Lady.
‘Emily, up you come too,’ said Sammy, ‘and Boots, and the bridesmaids.’
‘In the cart?’ cried Rosie. ‘Oh, spiffing! Come on, Annabelle!’
Boots lifted the two girls, one after the other. Sally moved forward.
‘Might I lend you a hand, Miss Sally Brown?’
Sally turned, and there was Ronnie from the Camberwell offices, all togged up in his best suit and wearing an admiring grin.
‘Oh, it’s you,’ she said.
‘What a peach,’ said Ronnie, ‘I can’t wait to shake a leg with you later.’
‘Not if I see you comin’,’ said Sally, and then she was up in the cart too. So was Emily, and so was Boots.
‘Full cartload, Eli,’ said Sammy, ‘so don’t gallop. There’s no hurry.’
‘Vhy, that there ain’t, Sammy,’ said Mr Greenberg, ‘so I’m cartin’ you all the vay round, through the Valvorth Road and down Browning Street, and so on, ain’t it?’
‘Blessed saints,’ said Rosie, ‘what a palaver, ain’t it?’
They were all perched on the narrow side seats, Sammy and Susie, Boots and Emily, and the three bridesmaids, much to the uproarious delight of the guests.
‘It’s a lovely weddin’, Jim,’ said Mrs Brown to Mr Brown.
‘Our Susie, eh?’ said Mr Brown. ‘Ain’t you proud of her, Bessie?’
‘That I am, Jim.’
‘Sammy’s got himself a lovely wife in Susie,’ said Vi to Tommy.
‘I’ve had one for a few years meself,’ said Tommy.
‘That’s funny,’ said Vi, ‘I’ve had a nice husband a few years meself.’
‘Good on yer, Vi.’
‘Good on you too, Tommy.’
‘Who’s goin’ to be on top out of those two?’ asked Lizzy of husband Ned.
‘Well,’ said Ned, ‘if Sammy does what comes naturally—’
‘I didn’t mean that, Ned Somers,’ said Lizzy. ‘Honestly, your mind, if I don’t straighten it out I won’t be able to take you anywhere.’
‘Not even to church?’ said Ned.
‘You’re not goin’ to dodge that,’ said Lizzy, ‘There, they’re off.’
Mr Greenberg drove the pony and cart out through the gates, turning left for the Walworth Road, and after the cart went the younger guests who, of course, began to sing.
‘My old man said follow the van…’
Susie waved her bouquet at everyone the cart passed in Larcom Street. Emily remembered her own wedding, her own ride in the cart with Boots and others. She slipped her arm through his.
‘We did this,’ she said. It had been nearly ten years ago.
‘So we did,’ said Boots, leaving alone the fact that he’d been blind at the time. He watched the street. He wondered if Ponsonby knew of the wedding. The man knew his name. Inspector Grant had mentioned it in the man’s presence. Ponsonby had lodged only a few doors away from the Browns and would have known, as everyone in the street did, that Susie was engaged to Sammy Adams. The man was clever enough to make the right assumptions and to ask questions that would turn assumptions into fact. He’d have to ask those questions of people in the neighbourhood. He was on the loose, unless the police had caught up with him again. Boots was willing to take his chances with the man, but in no way was he going to leave Rosie at risk. Tim at the moment was with his cousin Bobby, Lizzy and Ned looking after him. But Boots felt that if Inspector Grant was right, Ponsonby would be after Rosie or himself, or just Rosie. The vicious lunatic had a fixation on young girls.
‘Boots, it’s a lovely day,’ said Emily.
‘Specially arranged by Sammy, Em.’
‘Well, it’s gladsome, don’t you think?’
‘I’d say so, Em.’
Rosie, utterly delighted with everything, with her place in the cart, with waving to people in the Walworth Road and with the singing young people following the cart, whispered, ‘Mummy, are you and Daddy having happy talk?’
‘Well, it’s a weddin’ day,’ said Emily. ‘Oh, lor’, I forgot about Tim. Who’s lookin’ after him?’
‘Aunt Lizzy and Uncle Ned,’ said Rosie.
The bridal cart nearly stopped the traffic, especially when the young people began to sing to the bride.
‘If you knew Susie like I know Susie, oh, oh, oh what a girl…’
Boots noticed then that the uniformed constable was following.
Inspector Grant was obviously convinced that Ponsonby would make an attempt to strike.