Laughter rippled through the room, getting more raucous as Jack continued to play with great zeal. After a moment everybody had joined in singing ‘Pack Up Your Troubles’.
Alice was in front of Geoff and as she felt his arms come about her in the dark, she sensed the reverberation of his singing voice through her coat. She leaned back against him, closing her hands over his, clasped together on her waist. She felt suddenly warm and unafraid and glad that her dad and Sophy were here with them. If the worst happened, and a bomb was dropped on them, at least she’d be with the people she loved and they’d all go together. When the droning was at its loudest, so was the choir, rising in a defiant crescendo of sound that seemed to shake the house. When danger was past, and the lights were eventually relit, the company seemed rather subdued. Within half an hour the party had finished and the neighbours had dispersed.
‘’Ere, Til! Wait up!’
Tilly swung about to see Beattie Evans pounding the pavement behind her. She halted at once for her neighbour looked flustered and that indicated she had something import ant to tell her.
Beattie wobbled to a stop and wheezed in air. ‘Never guess who I just seen. Strutting bold as yer like up the top end …’
Tilly raised her eyebrows in enquiry.
The exertion of catching Tilly up and delivering that little speech seemed to have taken all Beattie’s breath and for a moment she simply fanned her face.
Impatient to be on her way Tilly made a guess. ‘If you’ve caught sight of Jimmy ‘n’ his tart out walking you don’t need to tell me nuthin’ about them. I know they’re still carryin’ on, and I don’t need nobody telling me my sister’s a fool.’
Despite Jimmy’s promises that he’d soon escape Nellie’s clutches and be back home with his wife and kids, Fran still tolerated him spending most of his time with his fancy piece. Tilly reckoned that it was Nellie who was keen to be rid of Jimmy. She’d glimpsed her recently in Holloway Road with heavy powder clogged on a puffy eye. Tilly could put two and two together. Jimmy would cling onto Nellie while she was earning and he could take a cut of the money. He was obviously employing his fists if necessary to ensure he got as much as he wanted.
‘Ain’t him!’ Beattie blasted out a cackle. ‘Nah! This is a real sight fer sore eyes. Jeannie Robertson. Didn’t reckernise her straight off. All dolled up to the nines, she is. Just saw her up the other end. Saw me right back, she did, and didn’t look too concerned about getting spotted neither. That’s a brass-faced baggage to turn up after what she did!’ Beattie exclaimed.
Tilly’s eyes narrowed. She hadn’t forgotten the Robertson family. How could she? They’d done a bunk with the blouse she’d loaned Jeannie for pawning, and with Mr Keane’s rent and furniture. But what really niggled Tilly was that she could have lost her job over it all.
‘Up there, is she?’ Tilly echoed and her mouth set in a grim line. ‘I’ll have her … the thieving cow.’
‘Hang on,’ Beattie whispered in shock. ‘Bleeding hell. Look! Here she comes. She’s heading straight for us.’
Tilly turned to see that indeed Jeannie Robertson was marching purposefully in her direction. Tilly eyed her from head to toe. She didn’t appear to be in need of anything now. Dolled up hardly did justice to her elegant attire. She’d always been an attractive woman for her years – Tilly guessed Jeannie was about her own age, thirty-seven. It was the first time Tilly had seen her spruced up and she realised Jeannie Robertson wouldn’t have looked out of place sauntering along Bond Street. She certainly looked to be a misfit in Campbell Road, yet a few years ago she’d been glad to take a room in one of the worst houses to be had in this slum. A blue velvet hat was perched on Jeannie’s head and she was garbed in a smart dark outfit with a leather bag dangling from an elbow.
‘Got somethin’ fer yer,’ Jeannie stated as soon as she stopped. Her voice hadn’t undergone the same transformation and was as coarse as ever it had been.
Tilly elevated her chin. ‘Well … let’s know quick what it is, ’cos I got something for you too.’ One of Tilly’s clenched fists was raised to hover by her waist.
A small smile writhed over Jeannie’s lips then disappeared. ‘Can’t blame you for how you feel,’ she said simply. ‘Let’s go in there.’ She nodded to an open doorway close by. ‘Nobody else’s business anyhow what went on,’ she said, slinging a significant glance at Beattie who was listening to proceedings with slack-jawed avidity.
A shrug confirmed Tilly’s willingness to speak with Jeannie in private. In the shelter of the doorway she swung about immediately to confront her.
‘Got a few things to say and this to do.’ Jeannie pulled out of her stylish handbag some bank notes. ‘Should be more’n enough there to cover what I took. Furniture were crap anyhow but it served a purpose. Blouse you let me have to pawn kept us fed when we had nothing. So I’m saying I’m obliged to you. I’m saying too that it’s up to you what you do with old man Keane’s share of that there cash.’
Tilly continued staring at the fifteen pounds she held as though she couldn’t quite believe it was hers. A hint of floral perfume wafted from her fingers and Tilly was tempted to move her fist to her face to acquaint herself with the scent of plenty.
‘You want to pay Keane for his back rent and that pile o’ shit I carted off, that’s yer own business.’ Jeannie turned and walked away a few paces. ‘Another thing … you done me a good turn and I pay back favours.’ It seemed Tilly was intent on ignoring the offer so Jeannie turned away.
‘You done alright for yourself, then?’ Tilly rasped.
‘Doing better than I was,’ Jeannie answered wryly over a shoulder. She swung about. ‘Got hooked up again with a bloke I used to know out of Lorenco Road. He’s done alright. He’s got a few clubs now up west and he’s right generous. That’s enough for me for the time being.’
A dry chuckle rolled in Tilly’s throat. ‘That’s enough for any of us, I reckon.’
‘I heard your husband’s gone to fight.’
‘Yeah … he’s in France. But he was back a few months ago.’ A smile tipped Tilly’s lips as she remembered the wonderful time they’d had on Lucy’s fifth birthday.
‘Well, as I said, you done me a good turn ‘n’ I won’t forget it. Both me sons joined up,’ Jeannie added as an afterthought. ‘One navy … one army, neither of ’em old enough ter go.’
‘’Spect you miss ’em,’ Tilly said, her fists finally relaxing at her sides.
‘Yeah … but not as much as they miss each other, I reckon.’ With that Jeannie turned and set off up Campbell Road.
She’d got a few yards when Tilly hissed after her. ‘You mean it? You’ll not let on if I keep all o’ this?’ She discreetly wagged the cash, half-hidden in her skirt. ‘What if Mr Keane goes after you for it? He don’t forget nuthin’. If he sees you about he’ll have yer.’
‘He won’t … not when he finds out who my bloke is.’ Jeannie retraced her steps. ‘Keane might think he’s something round this poxy hole but he ain’t in the same league as Johnny Blake.’ Her top lip curled lightly. ‘I won’t have no trouble off him so you won’t have no trouble. I’ll make sure of it.’ Jeannie paused. Her shrewd eyes flitted over Tilly’s rough, faded clothing. ‘Might have a bit of business for you. I know you ‘n’ your husband used to do a bit of street selling from time to time. As I said, Johnny’s generous; buys me stuff I don’t pertickerly like. So, I got a few nice bits I got no use for … coats and boots ‘n’ so on. I’m looking to shift ’em so …’
‘Don’t want no charity off yer,’ Tilly butted in brusquely.