Cockney Orphan (8 page)

‘Shut up and eat up, you saucy sod,’ Gran replied gamely.

He would have preferred to see her eat a good breakfast once in a while. But she wouldn’t hear of it, no matter how hard he nagged. Relishing the feel of the perfectly cooked hot food
sliding down into his empty stomach, he had to admit the sustenance made him a whole man again.

Vic thought, as he did every day, that he couldn’t have had a happier life. He was grateful to Gran for the gift of it. If it hadn’t been for her, he’d be an orphanage kid and
so would Pat. None of their relatives had stepped forward when their parents had died. Had it not been for Gran, they wouldn’t have known what life or love was about. Vic worshipped the old
woman who sat beside him now. And he knew the feeling was returned.

They talked for a while, discussing the raid last night and how Pat and her husband Laurie had converted the cellar of their house in Manchester Road into a nice little sitting room. And how
even Dorrie was getting used to the explosions and how Gran slept on the put-u-up next to Dorrie’s camp bed and caught a draught down her neck. Vic related some of the events of his
warden’s rounds but not all. Though he could see by her eyes roving his face that his Gran was well aware of the horrors that had passed.

‘Now,’ said Gran as she scooped the last puddle in her bowl to her dry, wrinkled lips, ‘where are you taking your girl today?’

Vic almost dropped his knife. One thing about Gran that he wasn’t too struck on was her second sight, as she termed it. She’d had the knack all her life, coming out with things that
even he or Pat didn’t know were about to happen. She read the tealeaves and could give an answer to a problem or foretell the future. And she didn’t ask you whether you wanted to know
it or not. Out it came, like this morning, when he hadn’t even finished his tea, and he knew that once the tealeaves were strewn out before him he’d be hot at the back of his neck,
wondering what she was about to say.

‘What are you on about?’ he demanded, playing for time.

‘You’re meeting a lady, aren’t you?’

Vic blushed as he tried to swallow his bacon. ‘You’re an old witch you are.’

‘No, that was deduction, boy,’ she clarified swiftly. ‘You washed and shaved and put on a clean shirt without an argument. You’ve got a smile on your mug as wide as
Greenwich Reach, and that means only one thing.’

Vic relaxed a little, though not for long.

Gran bent forward. ‘But I can tell you something more, lad, and this isn’t guesswork. She’s special, this one. She’s got good lights. The only problem being there’s
other lights around her I don’t like. Mucky stuff.’

This time Vic did drop his knife. It clattered on his plate and he almost choked. He took a long swig of tea. Before he’d finished swallowing Gran was pointing her bony finger. ‘Tip
your cup and turn three times.’

‘Do I have to?’

‘Gave you the best china, didn’t I?’

Groaning, he tipped and the tealeaves swam over the saucer in rocky little piles. To Vic it looked a mess. But he knew that to Gran it was probably the meaning of life.

She took a sharp, wheezy gulp of breath. Her eyes went wide until Vic could see their whites, then slowly she relaxed and her eyelids fluttered. ‘Well now, that’s a to-do, that is, a
real to-do.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘I’m sorry to say she has trouble ahead.’

Vic sighed inwardly. It wasn’t fair. He’d hardly got back to knowing Connie yet. He’d been sweet on her at school and too shy to do anything about it. She wasn’t giggly
or mouthy like the other girls. She’d had these amazing blue eyes that filled her face and warmed him up the moment he looked in them. Her hair was all wavy right down her back, like a field
of corn in the wind. And now Gran was telling him about troubles and mucky stuff, just what he didn’t want to hear.

‘Gran, you know I don’t understand all this stuff,’ Vic protested miserably. He wanted to enjoy today with Connie. In fact, he wanted to enjoy a lot more time with her if given
the chance. It wouldn’t be so bad in a reserved job if he had Connie as his girl.

‘I’ve told you before, son,’ Gran said patiently. ‘We all have lights. Around us, shimmering like a second skin. You can tell if a person’s not well, or what
troubles they’re in—’

‘Yeah yeah, I know that, Gran. But it’s only you that see them. How should I know what Connie’s got—’

‘So it
is
Connie Marsh?’

Vic rolled his eyes. ‘It’s nothing serious,’ he insisted, but Gran was already shaking her head.

‘It’s dead serious, lad, you mark my words. Your lights are an identical match, like rainbows you both are, like the sun and the rain, they need each other.’ She shook the
saucer gently. ‘And there’s something else too.’

‘I don’t want to know,’ Vic groaned, pushing back his chair.

Gran was silent then and reached out to grasp his hand. Her fingers were shaking as she squeezed his knuckles. ‘There’s an envelope on its way. Brown it is. Same as the mucky
lights.’

‘A letter’s nothing to worry about,’ Vic joked, clasping the frail hand tightly between his own. ‘There might be money in it.’

‘No, it’s not money.’ Gran frowned as she indicated a little pile of tealeaves that bore an uncanny resemblance to the shape of the British Isles. ‘Britain see? The old
woman sits on her pig. Scotland, the rider, Wales, the pig’s head. Over here, the east and the beast’s bum.’

Vic gave a little shudder as he shifted uncomfortably. ‘Yeah, I remember me geography, Gran, though I can’t say it was taught like that.’

‘Well in my day it was – now concentrate. I don’t like the pig’s head. My advice to you is sit astride the animal and take fate into your own hands.’

He laughed nervously. ‘Can I go now?’

‘Remember what I said.’

‘Righto, Gran,’ he said quickly and stood up. ‘And just to put you out of your misery, yes, I am seeing Connie, that is, if I can find any trousers to put on.’

Gran waved her hand. ‘They’re hanging over your chair upstairs. Oh, and don’t go up West today. I’d stay local if I was you.’

‘Why’s that?’

Gran looked up. ‘Me water’s telling me they’ll be over soon.’

Vic didn’t stop to ask any more. He wanted to see Connie more than he wanted to listen to any more forecasts about the future.

‘V
ic, this is Mum and Dad.’ Connie knew she was stating the obvious but was too embarrassed to stop as the family lined up in order to
be introduced. ‘And this is Kevin and Sylvie – and Billy.’

If it hadn’t been for the bus being late when she’d left Dalton’s, she would have been safely outside the house now and waiting on the corner with Lucky as arranged.

Vic was standing in the middle of the front room, nodding and smiling at the full complement of the Marsh family. Even Billy’s presence was a rarity; Saturday mornings he usually vanished
before anyone was up.

‘Pleased to meet you all,’ Vic said several times again, beaming another smile as he looked slightly confused at the effusive greeting.

‘And we’re pleased to meet you – again – son.’ Ebbie winked at Connie as she held a freshly changed Lucky across her hip. ‘Used to watch you playing football
when you were knee high, but I don’t expect you remember me.’

‘I do as a matter of fact, Mr Marsh. It was a long time ago, but I know your face.’

Vic was relieved of his coat and a tin of Jacob’s Assorted Biscuits was found and offered swiftly past the noses of the family, to linger in front of the visitor. Vic sat on the couch,
drinking more tea than Connie suspected he had ever drunk in his life before.

She was relieved when all the questions were over and they were on their way out to the car. ‘Sorry you had to knock for me,’ Connie apologized as they climbed in. ‘I was late
getting Lucky ready otherwise I’d have been on the corner waiting.’

‘When you weren’t there,’ Vic said as he started the engine, ‘I thought you’d changed your mind.’

‘I wouldn’t have done that.’ She gestured to Lucky, who she had dressed in Dorrie’s rompers, a blue bonnet and a blue coat that Nan had picked up from the market.
‘As you can see, I didn’t go to the Welfare people. Do you mind if he comes with us?’

Vic winked at the baby. ‘Course I don’t. He looks grand now he’s washed up. Look at them big eyes. Same as yours. As blue as a clear blue sky.’

Connie blushed. ‘Yes, they were dark at first, but now they’ve changed.’

‘Did your Mum have him whilst you were at work?’

‘No, I had an unexpected offer of help from our neighbour, Nan Barnes. She’s wonderful, bless her heart, but does go on a bit. I don’t like to be rude so by the time I left her
house and got back home today it was almost two o’clock. I didn’t even have time to change.’

‘You look lovely.’

Connie grinned. ‘I’m still in my working clothes.’ She hadn’t had time to put on a dress, or pin her hair up.

He glanced at her. ‘Well, you still look lovely. The pair of you do.’ He looked back at the road. ‘I’ve checked all the missing lists, by the way. No one’s reported
a missing girl and her baby, not a whisper.’

‘But she must have an identity and so must he.’

‘If anything turns up, you’ll be the first to know.’

Connie didn’t like to admit she was in no hurry for the baby to be claimed. Instead, she wound her fingers through his and looked into his eyes. It was very strange that he had her colour
eyes. She wondered what colour his hair would be when it grew.

‘I intended to drive up to town,’ Vic said thoughtfully. ‘But I’m undecided now.’

‘Because I brought Lucky, you mean?’ Connie asked worriedly.

‘No, it was something Gran said, not that I should take her seriously, but once she makes these predictions it’s hard to ignore them.’

‘Predictions?’ Connie repeated curiously.

He paused for a moment. ‘I feel a bit of a twerp, really, repeating what seems like a load of cobblers. But this morning Gran knew about me taking you out.’

Connie looked confused. ‘Did you tell her?’

Vic’s dark eyebrows raised. ‘Never said a word.’

‘How did she know, then?’

He drew the car into the gutter and pulled on the handbrake. Switching off the engine, he turned in his seat, lifting his shoulders in a shrug. ‘She said it was deduction, but she also
reads the tealeaves. Now don’t ask me how it works, ’cos I don’t know. It’s something I’ve grown up with from a kid and makes me a bit uncomfortable really. I always
try to get out of it.’

Connie was fascinated. ‘Why is that?’

‘I suppose because she’s not often wrong.’

‘Does she tell you bad things, then?’

‘Oh no.’ He shrugged, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. ‘It’s not bad or anything, but you get a sort of warning and you’re obliged to take notice of it,
whether you like it or not. Anyway, one of the things she went on about was not to go up West today, stay local, as she reckons we might get a raid.’

‘What, in daylight?’

He nodded. ‘I shouldn’t take no notice really. I don’t know why I’m hesitating.’

Connie nodded thoughtfully. ‘Well, perhaps we could just go up to Cox Street? See if they’ve put out the stalls.’

Vic rubbed his jaw. ‘Are you sure?’

‘Of course. I like a bit of mystery.’ She giggled.

Vic grinned as he glanced at her. ‘I’ll have to polish up on my mysterious skills, then.’

‘You’re doing quite well as it is.’ Connie gazed into his beautiful eyes, so dark and dreamy, with little orange flecks in the centre of the brown that she hadn’t noticed
before. His smiling lips were full and smooth and set in the middle of a strong, square jaw that seemed to be just the right shape for his long, aquiline nose. He dressed so nicely too, the collar
of his overcoat turned up, his shirt and tie just showing beneath, even driving gloves on the dashboard, though she hadn’t seen him wearing them.

‘So . . .’ he said, taking a deep swallow, ‘the market it is.’ He stretched across to take Lucky’s tiny hand in his big fingers. His palm covered the back of her
hand briefly and their eyes met. Never before had she felt like this. Now she actually knew the meaning of the words weak at the knees, and the world for one breathtaking moment seemed to stand
still. He gazed deeply into her eyes and very slowly leaned towards her. ‘Connie, I—’

‘What’s all this?’ a deep voice boomed through the open window. Connie saw a policeman standing there. ‘We don’t want no argey bargey in broad daylight, do we?
Plenty of time for all that sort of stuff in the blackout.’ He gave a little grin. ‘Now, ’oppit!’

Looking embarrassed, Vic started the car again quickly. He drove off, the engine revving noisily over their suppressed laughter.

Everyone seemed to be defying the Luftwaffe to turn up. A fruit and veg barrow with a notice inscribed ‘Hitler’s bombs can’t beat us’ hanging from its
canvas awning was surrounded by women opening their purses and shopping bags. People bustled to and fro as if it was quite normal to step over girders and deep craters. A piano had been pushed into
the open and an old lady was sitting in front of it, bashing away at the keys. All the kids had gathered round and were singing whilst people carried furniture and possessions from the remains of
one house into another. Even the demolished buildings were part of the scenery now. The islanders were out in force, searching for replacements for their losses, or simply to cheer themselves
up.

Vic took Lucky in his arms as they strolled down the street. Connie noted the curious glances cast their way. What were people thinking, she wondered? What would it be like to have a husband and
child of her own?

‘Gran used to bring me and Pat here to the market, get us out of the way like, when Mum was ill and needed a bit of peace,’ Vic said as they walked. ‘She knew everyone.
We’d tag along, playing with other kids, and help to bring back what she bought. Mostly it was fruit and veg and a bit of meat, all dead cheap.’

‘How long ago was that?’

‘I must have been six or seven and Pat a year younger. We lived up Poplar in two rooms then, but when Dad died of TB we came to stay with Gran. Mum lasted two years without him. Gran said
she just wasted away. I don’t remember much, but what I do remember, though, is Mum’s smile. It was lovely, like a ray of sunshine.’