Gaslight In Page Street Part 17

'I guessed that much, but who could 'ave took it?' William wondered, frowning.

George stood with hands on hips, shaking his head. 'I took it off when I 'ad a sluice on Friday afternoon, an' I fergot ter put it back on when I left 'ere at five. It couldn't 'ave bin any o' the carmen, they was all finished before I left. There was only you an' that idiot Oxford left.'

'Well, I didn't take it,' William said quickly.

'I'm not sayin' yer did, but I wouldn't mind bettin' Oxford took it. Who else would be stupid enough ter leave fish-an'chip sc.r.a.pin's in the desk?'

'Come on, George,' William said, turning on his employer. 'Jack Oxford wouldn't 'ave took yer watch. I know 'e comes in 'ere at times but the man ain't a thief.'

'Well, if it wasn't 'im, who could 'ave took it?' George growled. 'Could somebody 'ave come in the yard after I'd gone? It's not the watch so much, it's losin' the fob piece. Yer know 'ow long I've 'ad that.'

William nodded. The fob had gone the way it came, he thought to himself. 'The only fing I can fink of is that somebody got in 'ere over the weekend,' he offered. 'It might 'ave bin an ole tramp. 'E might 'ave got in frew the back fencin'. I'll go an' 'ave a look see.'

Jack Oxford moved smartly away from where he had been standing near the office door and bent over his broom industriously as the foreman came out into the yard.

Within a few minutes William had returned to the office. 'There was a loose plank by the end stable,' he told Galloway. 'That's 'ow they got in. I'll get it nailed up straight away.'

George puffed angrily and slumped down in his chair, grimacing with exasperation at his sudden loss. The explanation seemed to satisfy him, but William made a mental note to have a word with Jack Oxford as soon as Galloway was out of the way. He had noticed that the plank had been loosened from the inside.

Chapter Nineteen.

George Galloway was in a bad mood as he stood in front of the mirror in his bedroom and tried to fix his cravat. He had had to replace his watch-and-chain, and now his new grey suit felt tight around the chest. Nora looked in through the open door and when she saw George puffing, came in.

'Let me fix it,' she said, reaching up on tiptoe.

George sighed. 'We're gonna be late,' he grumbled. 'It'll take at least an hour ter get ter Brixton.'

Nora stepped back from her handiwork. 'There, that looks better,' she said, glancing in the mirror and adjusting her wide bonnet. It seemed right that she was going along with George to see Frank get married, as she had watched him and his brother and sister grow up and had taken care of the three of them. It was the first time she had gone to a wedding since she and her husband walked down the aisle together. 'I should 'ave bought the grey bonnet,' she said. 'This looks more suitable for a funeral.'

George pulled a face. 'Yer look very nice,' he remarked.

'Yer look very smart yerself,' Nora said, appraising him with a smile. 'Grey suits yer. Now c'mon, it's time we left.'

Nora sat straight-backed in the trap as they left the square. It was the first time she had ridden in it and she felt a little apprehensive as the gelding broke into a trot in response to George's flick of the reins. The high wheels rattled over the cobbles and she gave George a quick glance as they turned into Jamaica Road. He looked very distinguished, she thought. His grey Homburg matched his suit and his greying hair was swept back at the sides and plastered down with brilliantine. He had trimmed his full moustache and was wearing cashmere gloves turned back at the wrists. Nora noticed the glances from people they pa.s.sed and she smiled to herself. Her life was now happy once more, she reflected. She had the independence that she needed and the love of a good man as well. He was considerate, if a little moody at times, but she was not a young woman with her head full of childish romantic notions. George came into her bed on regular occasions and she was happy with their relations.h.i.+p. The one thing that made her feel sad, though, was the way he often ignored young Josephine and seemed to have very little room for her in his life. Josie was growing into a pretty young thing and she needed her father to show an interest in her. He seemed uncomfortable in her company and rather curt at times, but maybe that was understandable and even excusable in a way, Nora allowed. He was a gruff, coa.r.s.e man who had never really tried to refine himself and it seemed that he harboured no desire to change now.

The journey took over an hour and the wedding guests had already a.s.sembled in the church when George and Nora arrived. Heads turned as they walked along the aisle. George's shoes were squeaking loudly. 'I should 'ave stuck some axle-grease on 'em,' he said in a voice loud enough for those nearest him to hear.

Nora winced as the couple in front turned around and looked blankly at them. 'Keep yer voice down,' she whispered, smiling at him through clenched teeth.

A hush had descended. Suddenly the church organ boomed out the Wedding March. Heads turned as Frank's bride Bella came down the aisle on the arm of her father with four bridesmaids holding her train. Josephine was one of the first pair and Nora nudged George as the procession pa.s.sed them. 'Doesn't she look lovely?' she whispered.

He was looking at Bella and nodded.

'I was talkin' about Josie,' Nora muttered sharply.

Bella looked relaxed and self-possessed as she walked slowly towards the altar. She was wearing a full-length white dress cut very tight at the bodice to accentuate her large bosom. She wore a full veil crowned with a flowered tiara and her face was heavily made-up. Nora could not help feeling that she looked anything but a demure bride. She was glancing from side to side and smiling in that artificial way, fluttering her eyelids and running her tongue over her full, glossy lips as if she was putting on a show and loving every minute of it. Nora felt a little guilty for her thoughts. Maybe she was being unkind to Bella on her wedding day and maybe the marriage would be a blessed one, but Nora could not help having her doubts.

The wedding reception was held at the Ram, a large public house nearby. The guests sat down to a lavish meal in a large first-floor room and George mumbled under his breath every time the feasting was interrupted by someone getting up to make a speech. Nora nudged him after one effeminate young man rose to his feet and showered praises on Bella and her successful run at the Collins Music Hall. 'P'raps yer should get up an' say a few words?' she suggested.

George shook his head vigorously. 'I'd 'ave ter be p.i.s.sed before I got up an' said anyfing,' he told her, tucking into his food.

Nora had been studying the various guests closely during the meal and had noticed the young woman sitting near Geoffrey who seemed to have eyes only for him. When the young man got up to read out the telegrams and give the customary toast to the bridesmaids, she sat with her chin resting in her hands, seemingly enraptured. He glanced constantly in her direction and Nora's sharp eyes read the silent messages that flashed between them. The woman looked older than Geoffrey and was dressed modestly. She was attractive with dark hair, and Nora became intrigued. Was that Geoffrey's lady friend, she wondered, the married woman he was seeing?

The wedding feast was over, and as the guests moved into an adjoining room for drinks a team of workers swiftly cleared away the tables. Musicians were gathering on a raised dais at one end of the large room and very soon they struck up with a waltz tune. Frank and Bella took the floor and led off the dancing. George stood watching the swirling figures with a large whisky in his hand and Nora stood at his side, her eyes still studying the group. They were mainly theatrical folk who laughed loudly and made exaggerated gestures. The women seemed to float sooner than walk, she thought, and the men stood in various stagey poses, their thumbs tucked in their waistcoat pockets as they guffawed together with little or no restraint. One or two of them were already becoming drunk and their laughter was getting louder. George looked as if he felt quite out of place and seemed determined to get drunk too, swallowing large draughts of Scotch whisky as if to drown his inhibitions.

More couples were dancing now as the pianist and the string quartet played a medley of popular dance tunes. Nora noticed that Geoffrey was dancing with his lady friend. Their bodies were close together and they were staring into each other's eyes. Bella looked as though she was having a serious conversation with one smart young man, while Frank was surrounded with a group of dandies at the far end of the room. While George wandered off somewhere Nora sat down on a soft window seat and sipped her port. She became aware of a young woman eyeing her up and down. Nora smiled briefly at her, but the woman looked away quickly. It was not long before George returned, strolling over to the window with an elderly man and woman. He was holding a full gla.s.s of Scotch and his face was flushed.

'Nora, this is Bella's muvver an' farvver,' he said in a slightly exaggerated voice.

Nora got up and shook hands with them and the woman took her arm and steered her to one side. The man took a sip from his drink and turned to George. 'Young Frank tells me you're in the cartage business,' he said with a pompous jerk of his head.

George took a swig from his gla.s.s and pulled a face as he swallowed a mouthful of whisky. 'That's right. What d'you do fer a livin'?' he asked, swaying slightly.

'I'm in banking,' Bella's father said. 'What exactly do you cart around?' he added quickly.

'Rum, skins, 'ops an' foodstuffs mainly,' he replied.

'Skins? Animal skins?'

''S'right. It's not the best sort o' contract,' George told him. 'The trouble wiv 'andlin' skins is the smell. Stink ter 'igh 'eaven they do, but the contract pays well.'

'Frank tells me that you've been thinking about buying some vehicles,' the banker said, raising an eyebrow.

'The boy's bin tryin' ter push me inter gettin' motors but I'm keepin' the nags,' George told him with resolve.

'Really? I would have thought there were good arguments for cartage firms to mechanise,' Bella's father commented. 'I understand there's a lot of freight up for the taking, the way the food firms are expanding. Then there's the dock freight as well.'

George swayed back on his heels and fixed the tall, thin banker with his bleary eyes. 'I've bin lookin' inter this business o' mechanisation,' he began. 'Yer pay out a tidy sum fer a lorry, then yer gotta pump it full o' petrol, an' that's not all. Yer put water in it, an' oil fer the engine. Then ter start it yer gotta crank the b.l.o.o.d.y fing, an' if yer ain't got yer magneto set prop'ly yer quite likely ter rupture yer b.l.o.o.d.y self. I've seen drivers tryin' ter start those motors on frosty mornin's. It's b.l.o.o.d.y nigh impossible.'

The banker raised his hand as he tried to get a word in. 'The latest vehicles are much improved, George,' he said quickly.

Galloway laughed derisively. 'Let me tell yer somefink. My carmen collect their 'orses from the stable first fing in the mornin', an' once they've got 'em in the sharves they're off. While the carman loads an' unloads the van the 'orse 'as the nose bag on, an' when the carman sees a water-trough on 'is route 'e lets the 'orse drink its fill. It's as simple as that. Yer can turn an 'orse-an'-cart round in any backstreet. Try doin' that wiv a lorry. I'll ter yer somefing else an' all. When it turns nasty an' the fog comes down like a blanket yer gotta leave the lorry where it stands. Yer don't 'ave ter wiv 'orses. Yer get yer wheels in the tramlines an' let the 'orse 'ave its 'ead. They can smell their own stable a mile off. Motors are unreliable. 'Orses'll work till they drop. So yer see, pal, I'm not in any 'urry ter mechanise.'

Bella's father had the sudden urge to mingle and George glanced over to Nora, but saw that she was in earnest conversation with Bella's mother. He walked unsteadily into the adjoining room and went up to the improvised bar counter. While his gla.s.s was being refilled, he looked around at the other wedding guests. A shapely woman in a fur stole was sitting near the window. When she caught his eye, she got up and came over to him.

'You're Mr Galloway, aren't you?' she said, smiling at him. 'I'm a friend of a friend of Bella's, and frankly I don't know what I'm doing here.'

'Well, I'm enjoyin' a good drink. I s'pose that's a good enough reason as any fer bein' 'ere,' he said, grinning lopsidedly.

The woman put down her empty gla.s.s and looked him over. 'I saw you talking to Bella's father a minute ago,' she remarked. 'I think he's a pompous old b.a.s.t.a.r.d, if you'll excuse the expression.'

George laughed loudly. 'Yer can say that again! The silly ole sod was on about me gettin' rid o' me 'orse-an'-carts an' goin' in fer motors. I told 'im, though.'

'Good for you,' the woman declared. 'By the way, my name's Rose. Rose Martin. What's your first name?'

'George,' he replied. 'Are yer on yer own, Rose?'

She shook her head. 'I was with a young man when I came in, but I think he's found himself a young lady.'

'Well, 'e ought ter be ashamed of 'imself,' George said with gusto.

'Oh, it's quite all right,' she laughed. 'To be honest Desmond's a bit of a silly billy. Actually, I prefer the company of older men.'

George was intrigued by her candour and studied her while she sipped a fresh drink. She looked to be in her mid-forties, he thought, very attractive and well preserved. Her smile showed off her perfect teeth and her grey eyes seemed to sparkle mockingly. Her hair was fair and cut close to her neck, and she was wearing expensive clothes. Her fur must be worth a pretty penny, he told himself, letting his eyes wander down her body. She was full-bosomed with wide hips, and he noted that she carried herself well.

'Are yer on the stage?' he asked her.

Rose raised her hands in front of her. 'Good G.o.d, no! I'm a lady of leisure. I let wealthy men keep me in luxury,' she explained, seemingly amused as he raised his eyebrows.

'Do any of your men friends take yer out fer a ride in a pony an' trap?' Galloway asked her, smiling slyly.

'No, I've never had that pleasure,' she lied.

'Would yer like ter try it?' he asked her.

'It sounds exciting. Are you offering?'

He nodded. 'Why not?'

Rose adjusted her fur stole as she glanced over his shoulder. 'It seems that dear Desmond is looking for me,' she said with a grimace. 'Come and visit me soon, during the afternoon. I've got rooms in Acre Lane. It's the big house next to the church. Two knocks. Can you remember that?'

George nodded and turned away as Desmond came up. He had left Nora to her own devices and thought it was time he rejoined her. The band was playing a slow foxtrot as George went back into the other room and he saw Geoffrey dancing with the same woman who had been monopolising him earlier. They seemed to be absorbed in each other, he thought, and looked as though they knew each other well. George had never seen her before today and frowned as he watched their progress around the dance floor. Geoffrey was a deep young man, and it seemed to George that he had strange tastes in women. He was a good-looking lad and well educated. He could take his pick of desirable young women, and there were certainly some of those in Bermondsey, but the few he had brought home in the past were either quiet and withdrawn or else 'those campaigning women', as George called them. Geoffrey's present partner did not look the quiet and reserved sort, though, he thought. She was attractive and carried herself well, and looked at least as old as the boy if not a few years older.

George's thoughts were interrupted by Nora who came up to him looking a little peevish. 'Who was that bra.s.sy woman you was talkin' to at the bar?' she asked. 'She looked as though she was all over yer.'

George grinned. 'She's wiv a young lad-about-town, an' jus' asked me if I was Frank's farvver.'

Nora gave him a cold stare. 'She looked no better than she should be, if you ask me. If she'd stood any closer ter yer she'd 'ave bin in yer pocket,' she complained.

George shrugged his shoulders. 'Who's that woman our Geoff's dancin' wiv, Nora?' he asked, nodding in the direction of the dance floor. 'They seem very good friends.'

She shook her head. 'Jus' somebody 'e's met, I s'pose,' she answered. She had been observing the couple for some time, however, and had come to the conclusion that they were more than just friends. Nora felt suddenly sorry for Geoffrey. He had become very secretive lately and there would be trouble ahead for him if, as she guessed, he and this woman were lovers.

The evening wore on and George seemed to be achieving his aim of getting drunk. He had started to reel about and become more noisy. Nora found him a seat and then she went to speak to Geoffrey. 'Yer farvver's not gonna be able ter drive that trap back,' she told him. ''E's 'ad too much whisky. I couldn't stop 'im. Yer know what 'e's like.'

Geoffrey squeezed her arm rea.s.suringly. 'Don't worry, Nora. I'll drive it back. By the way, I'd like you to meet Mary O'Reilly. Mary and I are friends.'

The young woman reached out her hand. 'So you're Nora. Geoff's told me all about yer,' she said, smiling.

Nora smiled back and looked discerningly at her. Her hair was raven, enhancing the deep blue of her eyes. Her manner was easy and friendly, although there seemed to be a defensiveness about her. It was understandable, Nora conceded. If she was married and she and Geoffrey were having an affair, it would be natural for her to be on her guard. Geoffrey did not seem at all bothered however and slipped his arm around Mary's waist as they stood talking to Nora.

'Are yer enjoyin' yerself, Nora?' Mary asked.

'Ter tell yer the trufe, I feel a bit uneasy in this company,' Nora replied. 'I'm not used ter bein' around so many people.'

Geoffrey laughed. 'Don't tell me that, Nora. I saw you drinking port and chatting away merrily. I'll tell you what, could you keep Mary company for me while I go and see if Father's all right?'

Mary took hold of Geoffrey's arm. 'Before yer go, can yer get us anuvver drink? Nora needs one too by the look of it,' she said, smiling sweetly at him.

When the drinks arrived the two women sat on the soft, velvet-covered window seat and Nora sipped her port, studying the dancers. 'Are you an' Geoff walkin' out tergevver?' she asked suddenly.

Mary smiled and looked down at the drink she held in her hand. ''As Geoff spoken ter yer about me?' she asked.

Nora shook her head. 'No. As a matter o' fact 'e's bin very secretive lately. One time 'e used ter confide in me, but I s'pose it's ter be understood. 'E's a man now an' 'e needs 'is privacy.'

'Geoff's very fond of yer,' Mary said, taking a sip from her gla.s.s. ''E's told me 'ow yer looked after them all when 'is muvver died. Don't be too upset about 'im not sayin' much lately. Things are a bit difficult fer both of us. I'm married, an' that makes seein' Geoff a bit awkward.'

Nora looked at Mary with feigned surprise. 'Oh dear,' she said.

Mary studied her drink. 'My 'usband's not one o' those men who knocks 'is wife about or who comes 'ome drunk,' she began. 'In fact, 'e's a very nice man. It's just that we've grown apart the last couple o' years. Maybe if we'd 'ave 'ad kids it would 'ave bin different, but it wasn't ter be. I'm in love wiv Geoff an' I fink 'e loves me. I couldn't 'elp fallin' fer 'im. It jus' 'appened.'

'Does yer 'usband know about Geoff?' Nora asked quickly.

Mary shook her head. ''E doesn't know about us an' I can't bring meself ter tell 'im. Not that I 'aven't tried. I've tried dozens o' times but I jus' can't. Maybe I'm wrong, but it's jus' that I can't 'urt 'im. As I said, 'e's a good man an' a good provider. Christ! It's so difficult.'

Nora lifted her eyes from her drink. 'It must be difficult fer Geoff as well,' she said with feeling. ''Is farvver expects a lot from 'im an' I don't know 'ow 'e'll take it when 'e finds out. 'E's gotta find out some time.'

Mary winced. 'I realise that. I only 'ope 'is farvver doesn't disown 'im when 'e does find out. Geoff works 'ard at the business, from what I can make out. It wouldn't be fair.'

'What is fair?' Nora asked. 'Geoff lost 'is muvver when 'e was at a young age. 'E grew up in a sad 'ouse. Most o' the time 'is farvver was eivver at the yard or sittin' in 'is room wiv a bottle fer company. The boy couldn't 'ave bin blamed if 'e'd 'ave kicked over the traces an' gone off ter sea or somefink. 'E never did though. Mind yer, 'e never ever wanted ter go in the business. 'E only agreed fer 'is farvver's sake. Geoff's a good boy. 'E's got more feelin' than Frank an' I wouldn't like ter see the boy unhappy.'

Mary was about to say something but Geoff was coming over to them. 'I'm afraid Father's beginning to make a nuisance of himself,' he said raising his eyes to the ceiling. 'He's been telling the women all about horse fever. If that wasn't bad enough, he then started on about animal skins and the danger of anthrax. Frank's new mother-in-law looked like she was going to faint. Anyway, I managed to steer the old man away from them. I left him sitting in a corner with a large whisky. I think I'd better get the trap before he really gets into his stride.'

The night was cold and a bright moon shone down from a starry sky as the party returned to Bermondsey. Iron wheels rattled over the gaslit cobbled streets and Geoffrey held the reins taut as the gelding trotted at a fast pace with its head held high. It had been stabled at an ostler's during the wedding reception and was feeling fresh and frisky. George was slumped in the side seat with his head lying on Nora's shoulder and Mary sat beside Geoffrey, holding tightly on to his arm. Josephine was not with them. She had been invited to stay overnight at Bella's parents', along with the other bridesmaids.

Nora was deep in thought as the trap rattled over the tramlines at the Elephant and Castle and turned into the New Kent Road. Geoff's married woman friend had been forthcoming with her about their relations.h.i.+p and Nora could not help but feel apprehensive for the young people's future. It was not difficult for her to understand why Geoffrey had been so secretive lately. Unlike his brother Frank, he was expected to conform to certain standards. His father had as good as forced him to go into the business and it had caused the young man more than a little unhappiness. He seemed to have come to terms with the idea of one day taking over the firm but now there was another problem looming. Knowing George the way she did, Nora was sure that he would expect his elder son to provide a male heir to carry on the family name. He would no doubt take a very destructive att.i.tude towards Geoffrey's relations.h.i.+p, she fretted, as the trap turned into Jamaica Road.

Chapter Twenty.

Fred Bradley was very pleased with the way his custom was growing. In the six months since Carrie had come to work for him he had almost doubled his trade, and knew that a lot of his success was due to her. She had a pleasant personality, a ready smile, and all the regular customers called her by name. Carrie had had some ideas of her own regarding the business, and Fred was now supplying a more varied fare. He had been forced to take on help in the kitchen, and a helper for Carrie too during the rush periods of the day. The cafe owner had experienced a sudden change of fortune and had begun to see his a.s.sistant in a new light. He had been used to working long hours in the kitchen with only an elderly a.s.sistant for company, but now there was a pretty young woman working with him, long dormant feelings began to stir. He found himself looking at Carrie and studying her face as she went about her ch.o.r.es. Fred would hardly admit to himself that he was attracted to his young a.s.sistant but he knew deep down that she was responsible for his change of outlook. Now he shaved every morning without fail and put on a clean pressed s.h.i.+rt and fresh ap.r.o.n. Customers began to notice the change in him and one or two of the more perceptive among them started to talk.

'I reckon our Fred's set 'is cap on Carrie,' one remarked.