Keep on Dancing, page 15
‘With your granddaughter – I had a choice? If I hadn’t agreed to help, she would have gone ahead in any case, and poked her nose in where it wasn’t wanted. She reminds me of you.’
‘I wouldn’t mind betting she’s clocked that you’re living there by now. She’s like an aeroplane… gives us lot down ’ere the impression that she’s a slow mover – when all the time she’s breaking the bloody sound barrier.’
She sipped her tea, eyeing him. ‘If I’d ’ave known what would ’ave come of my visit, I would never ’ave got on that bus that day.’ She looked into his brown, doleful eyes. ‘Why did you ’ave to show her the Star? Why couldn’t you have just done what you promised and put a word in for Rosie at the Royal? You’re a soddin’ nuisance, Larry; always was.’
‘You think I don’t rue the day you sent her to me?’
‘No. I think you’re enjoying a second delinquency.’
‘Maybe. Anyway… to answer your question, I don’t know how it came about. One minute she was there, outside the Royal, the next I was taking her to see the Star. The rest is history. She moved so fast I couldn’t feel my feet. I’m seventy, not seventeen! I like a slower pace.’
‘Have you ever been any different?’
‘Who knows? I’m too old to remember.’
‘But you’re not too old to remember what ’appened to me and Arthur, in Bow?’
‘How could I not? Those stuck-up bastards stayed around for a while once you had left, don’t forget. Every time I saw that sister-in-law of yours I felt like wringing her neck for not standing up to Sir’s family, and those spoiled brats of hers. It was a disgrace.’
‘My sister-in-law had no choice, take my word for it. Anyway… they may well get their comeuppance. Rosie’s made friends with a medical student, by the name of Montague.’
‘Not the…’
‘The boy’s her second cousin and he’s got the ’ots for ’er. She’s not interested though. Not in that way. His aunt, Mary’s brat, is something to do with Drury Lane where they’re getting ready to put on a new show. I wouldn’t mind betting they’ll come face-to-face one day.’ Harriet chuckled, amused with the picture in her mind. ‘Rosie wants an introduction so she can get a dancing part.’
‘Montague is not such an unusual name. You’re letting your imagination run away with you.’
‘You reckon? Her name’s Birchfield. According to Rosie’s new friend Richard, his father changed his name by deed poll. From Birchfield to Montague. Now tell me I’m dreaming.’
‘Sounds like a bloody nightmare.’
‘Well, you know what they say – we reap what we sow.’
‘How did Rosie find out that this young man is a relative?’
‘I told ’er.’
‘Ask a silly question,’ he sighed. ‘I suppose you were as tactful as ever?’
‘I told ’er not to let him get inside her knickers because he was her cousin. I thought it best to be delicate. She’s a sensitive kid. Who owns the Grand Star?’
‘That’s none of your business.’
‘Just as I thought. Your father bought it way back.’ She raised a finger and smiled. ‘Nothing passed me by in them days. Old Man Simons might have thought it was a well-kept secret. So… you own it but you can’t afford to pay the rates. Rosie’s doing you a favour.’
‘I could sell and get a good price. Someone wants it for a bingo hall. Bingo hall up front, gambling club out the back.’
‘Well, why don’t you then?’
‘I might. If you drive me mad every time I see you.’
‘So you’re scratching each other’s back.’
‘That’s one way of looking at it – yours.’
‘What other way is there?’
‘I could sell and be a wealthy man. Living in luxury instead of in a bloody box room.’
‘Ah…’ Harriet beamed. ‘But that’s not what you want, is it? You want to live in your little music hall. Put you in a posh house and you’d die within a week.’
‘A day, more like. I suppose you want another cup of tea?’
‘I do.’
He held out his hand and waited. ‘I’m a poor man, living on a pension.’
‘I never asked you to pay,’ Harriet said, taking her purse from her handbag. ‘I’ve never scrounged in me life.’ She slapped a shilling into his palm.
‘Liar,’ he murmured, and went to the counter. ‘I’m having a cheesecake – do you want one?’
‘That’s very generous. Thank you, I will.’ He looked from her to the shilling in the palm of his hand. ‘I’m paying?’
Turning her head so he wouldn’t see her look of triumph, she quietly thanked providence. Rosie’s interest in the theatre had prompted her to go and see Larry. A very good and old friend of hers and Arthur’s who she hadn’t seen in ages. She couldn’t have wished to have been reunited with a lovelier man.
‘Do you know how much they charge for a cheesecake today?’
‘No,’ she sniffed, ‘I can’t afford luxuries. Have to make do with an arrowroot biscuit when I want a treat.’
‘I’m sure.’
Once they had satisfied their stomachs, Harriet and Larry made their way back to the theatre, talking ten to the dozen about old times and new times and things to come. When they arrived at the entrance to Star Passage, Larry stopped. ‘Do we really want to go in there with that lot?’
‘What else do you suggest?’
‘We could go and see how my niece is getting on with the curtains.’ Harriet eyed him suspiciously. ‘The stage curtains?’
‘Yes – the stage curtains. Why that look?’
‘You didn’t by any chance pinch the measurements that Rosie took down on Wednesday?’
‘I borrowed them.’
‘Well thanks to you she ’ad me turning the place upside down looking for ’em. Swore blind she’d put them down somewhere. Nearly cried with rage.’
‘It was for a good cause. With a bit of luck they’ll be ready to go up in a week or so. Tilly is like a woman possessed once she gets in front of a sewing machine. I bought an end of roll from the textile factory in Brick Lane. It was cheap… and it is blue; royal blue, as it should be. Left to herself, Rosie would have put red velvet up there.’
‘I thought you was a poor man, Larry?’
‘I am now. Do you want to go in there or come with me to my niece’s house? It’s just five minutes away.’
Pursing her lips, Harriet looked thoughtful. ‘We’ll go in and make an appearance – keep ’em on their toes. Then we’ll go. I wanna have a look at this cheap remnant you’ve bought.’
Walking side by side, Larry took Harriet’s arm. ‘You’re very good for your age, you know that?’
‘I’m bloody marvellous. What are you after?’
‘Why should I be after anything? I was paying you a compliment. I don’t want you in my bed, thank you. A couple of hours of your company now and then is more than enough.’ He opened the door for her. ‘Go on up, I’ll wait down here for you. I’m fed up with going up and down the backstairs.’
‘You’ll come up and like it. They’ll shove a broom in my ’and as soon as look at me. You’re my escape.’ Grabbing the handrail, she dragged herself up the staircase, moaning about it being too steep; about her energy being wasted on the place. ‘You’d best not mention why we’re going to your Tilly’s. Rosie’ll want to come with us to check what curtains you’ve ’ad the nerve to choose.’
‘I had no intention of telling her. Wait until they’re finished, then I’ll show her. She’ll be pleased. Shell get the gold trim that she went on about.’
‘Yeah…’ Harriet said tormentingly, ‘but she’ll be stuck with royal blue whether she likes it or not.’
‘I’m telling you, she’ll love them.’
* * *
‘You took your time, didn’t yer!’ Rosie got in before her gran, off the mark with her bossiness. The girls were working like Trojans and she didn’t want them needled. ‘Larry… what colour d’yer think this lino between the rows of seats is?’
‘I have no idea – but I do know that that lino is tar-based and good for several years. Why?’
‘It’s red! Come and see for yourself. See the difference in the bit I’ve scrubbed and the rest. It’s changed from grimy brown to red. How come you let it get in this state?’
‘What difference does it make? The red was under the dirt. It wasn’t going to go away. Have you found any mice yet?’
‘No, but we’ve put traps everywhere. Listen… we can’t work with stone-cold water. Light the boiler.’
‘There’s no fuel.’ He turned to Harriet. ‘Have you heard enough?’
‘Yeah. Come on, let’s get out of ’ere.’
Smiling, Rosie watched them leave. She knew how to handle her gran and she was beginning to see how to handle Larry. They were from the same mould, almost. ‘They’ve gone, girls! We can stop for a cuppa!’
Just as Larry put his hand on the lock of the door to open it, he felt Harriet tug at his sleeve. ‘Here.’ She pulled a roll of five-pound notes from her coat pocket. ‘This is for fuel. Make sure they’ve got hot water by the time they come back next Saturday.’
‘I can’t take that.’
‘It’s from one of her sponsors. From Tommy. Ask no questions, hear no lies. Take it.’
‘How much is here?’
‘Enough to light the boiler for a year.’
He looked at the wad of notes. ‘With a bit left over to buy a few arrowroot biscuits so I don’t starve?’
‘Put it away, you silly bugger, before we’re coshed and robbed.’
Stuffing in into his inside pocket, he took her arm again. ‘You’ll never change, will you? Always hiding that heart of gold of yours. I bet you had this put by in case you became a family burden.’
‘I always fancied a room by the sea – in an old people’s home, as it happens. But that’s not what that was for. It was for my Rosie’s big day. Now she tells me she don’t want a white wedding – so there you are.’
* * *
By the time they arrived at Tilly’s tiny two-up, two-down end-of-terrace house, the pair of them were ready for easy chairs. ‘I hope to God she’s in,’ Larry murmured, his finger on the doorbell.
‘Uncle Larry! How lovely, come in. I was just thinking about you.’
‘This is the old friend I was telling you about. Harriet.’
‘Come in, Harriet, I’ve been dying to meet you. Uncle Larry told me all about you and, about your niece too. Fancy her wanting to open up the Grand Star again! Isn’t it wonderful?’ She stood aside to allow them in.
Guiding Harriet into the front room, Larry smiled inwardly. It would be interesting for him to see how these two women got on together. His life had been very dull of late, until Rosie walked into it and renewed his spirits. The old mischievous Larry was coming back. ‘Let me have your coat, I’ll hang it up,’ he said.
‘Hang it up? Why? We’re not gonna be ’ere all bloody day, are we? I’ve got to keep an eye on them girls.’
‘She won’t let you dump it on the back of a chair. Houseproud? The word doesn’t cover what my niece is like.’ He took Harriet’s coat and winked at her.
‘I can’t help it,’ said Tilly, plumping the floral cushions on the sofa. ‘There’s nothing worse than an untidy room. I should have married money. Had servants to do for me.’
‘Shouldn’t we all…’ said Harriet, sinking into an armchair. ‘This is a nice room, Tilly.’ She focused on an oval-framed portrait photograph of a child with long wavy golden hair and green eyes. ‘Is that you?’
‘Sure. Even then I took pride in my appearance. You know what they used to call me round this way? The Jewish Princess. It was their little joke, Harriet, but… I loved it.’ She flicked her hand in the air and shrugged. ‘I felt like one, do you know that? From as far back as I can remember I behaved as if I was out of the royal family. So I like to keep my home like a palace. How bad? It drives my old man crazy. He leaves in the morning, and these walls are white with a pink patterned border; he comes home in the evening and it’s primrose with a green edging. I papered this room myself a month ago. I doubt I’ll change it for a few months yet. Don’t you think it looks lovely, Harriet, all these roses? We haven’t got much of a garden out the back so I thought we’d have flowers on the walls instead. I made the loose covers for the three-piece myself… and the curtains. If I’m not decorating I’m sewing. So, I’m a nest-builder. How terrible.’ Stopping for breath, Tilly sat on a chair at the highly polished oak dining table. ‘I’ve nearly finished the drapes, Larry. They’ll look wonderful. Wait till you see what I’ve got in mind for the valance.
‘Don’t you think it’s wonderful what they’re doing?’ She waved a hand at Harriet. ‘When he told me… I nearly broke down. Doing up the old Star.’ She shifted her head from side to side. ‘My mother would have cried in her sleep, God bless her soul.’
‘I’ll put the kettle on then, shall I?’ Larry exaggerated his usual half-awake expression.
‘Sure, but don’t splash water all over the place, Uncle Larry. And get out the china cups and saucers. Don’t put your fingers all over the glass.’
‘Anything else?’
‘I don’t think so… unless Harriet would like a biscuit?’
‘No thanks. I’ve just had a cheesecake.’
‘Am I allowed a biscuit?’
Tilly drew down the comers of her mouth and sighed. ‘Must you? You get crumbs everywhere Uncle Larry, you know you do. Have an apple.’
‘You want me to dip an apple in my tea?’
She looked from Larry to Harriet. ‘He’s the only person I know that can never manage to get a tea finger from the drink to his mouth without it sagging over and dropping on to his cardigan, or the floor. He’s worse than a baby.’
Larry rolled his eyes and left her with Harriet. ‘I think the world of that man. He’s been more like a father than an uncle.’ She leaned forward and mouthed the words: ‘He worships the ground I walk on. Never shows it though, but that’s men for you. My old man’s the same. Every morning before he goes out of that front door I have to ask him the same question, “Sammy… do you love me?” It never crosses his mind to ask me. Men.’ She swatted the air again. ‘They don’t know how lucky they are. So tell me about yourself, Harriet.’
‘Nothing to tell,’ grouched Harriet, wishing she’d stayed at the Star. Tilly was already irritating her beyond belief.
‘Tch. You’ve led a sheltered life, then? What we sacrifice for our families, eh? They’ll know it once we’re dead. So where do you live?’
‘Wapping.’
‘Do you…?’ Her face showed commiseration. ‘Ah well… we can’t always choose where we lay our head, can we? And you live alone?’
‘No. I live with my daughter and granddaughter.’
‘No?’
‘Yes.’ Harriet was beginning to lose her rag. ‘Well, I think that’s wonderful. I expect you do all their washing and ironing?’
‘No.’
‘You don’t?’
‘Let’s ’ave a butchers at these curtains then.’
Harriet fell into her broadest cockney accent. ‘Royal blue, ain’t they?’
‘With a gold trim,’ she said, proudly. ‘Once we’ve had our tea I’ll show you round the house. The drapes are in my sewing room. Upstairs. At the front of the house. The second bedroom.’ She could see she wasn’t making any impression.
‘Did you ’ave children?’ Harriet asked, hoping to change the subject, taking the chance that Tilly might not go on for hours about them if she had given birth.
‘Of course! Two. Boy first and then a girl. Now they’re married with families.’ A glazed look came over her eyes as she gazed down at the floor. ‘They moved out of the East End, of course… gone to Golders Green. They come to see us, sure they do, but not that often. They’re not keen on these backstreets. I brought them up to appreciate the finer things in life.’
And now you’re deeply regretting it, thought Harriet, feeling sorrier by the second for this unhappy mother who had unwittingly alienated herself from her children with her snobbery.
‘You should come over and pay us a visit in Wapping, Tilly. You and my Iris’d get on like a house on fire. She’s always fussing the place up as well. Cleaning and polishing everything in sight.’
‘I would love that, Harriet, I really would.’
Returning to the room, having drunk his tea in the comfort and quiet of the kitchen, Larry said, ‘What would you love?’
‘Harriet’s invited me over for tea.’
‘Rosie, Harriet, Rosie’s mother and you, all in the house at the same time?’
‘Well, Tilly… I like your company but I mustn’t stop. I’ve left a team of women at the Star and if I’m not there to keep an eye on ’em, nothing’ll get done.’
‘I don’t suppose you need another pair of hands,’ said Tilly, looking as if she were asking a favour.
‘Many hands make light work.’ Harriet pulled herself up from the comfortable chair. ‘We’ll be back there next Saturday. You’re more than welcome, but I warn you, it’s filthy.’
‘I suppose it must be.’ Her eyes lit up. ‘Wonderful. I like nothing better than to be able to see the result of my work. I’ll be there.’
‘Are you mad? You walk in that place and you’ll have a heart attack. You should wait until it’s clean and then start cleaning.’
‘If that’s not arse about face, I don’t know what is!’
Disgruntled, Larry shook his head. ‘Why did I let myself in for this?’
‘We’ll need gallons of bleach…’ murmured Tilly, miles away, ‘and a few good scrubbing brushes. Good tools make light work…’
‘Thanks for the tea, cock. See you next week.’ Harriet rushed out before Tilly got too carried away.
Once the street door was between them, Harriet drew breath. ‘Give us one of them fivers back. I’m getting a taxi ’ome. She’s exhausted me with all that energy of ’ers. Is she always like that?’
‘No… she usually talks between the pauses. Here.’ He handed over the note. ‘So I’ve got to put up with that lot by myself now?’
