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Nobody’s Girl
‘Watcha, Pearl.’
‘Er … hello,’ she stuttered, but he walked straight into the café without breaking his stride. Disconsolately she started to stroll along the market, berating herself for being silly. Kevin Dolby would never look at her twice. He had the pick of the girls and she could never compete.
Derek was looking out for Pearl and at three forty-five he saw her meandering down the market. Fingers crossed, he went to the front of his stall, smiling when she drew near.
‘Hello, love. Off home, are you?’
‘Yes, I’ve finished my shift.’
‘Er … Pearl. I … I was wondering if you fancy going to the pictures one night?’
Her huge eyes rose to meet his and he gulped. Christ, she was such a lovely little thing. She looked so innocent, so frail, and he held his breath for her answer.
‘The pictures? Well, yes, I suppose so.’
‘That’s great. How about tonight?’
‘Yes, all right. Can we go to the Granada? There’s a Marlene Dietrich film on that I’d love to see.’
‘Fine with me. How about I pick you up at seven?’
‘Yes, do that.’ And smiling shyly, Pearl walked away.
Bloody hell, he’d done it! With a little skip, Derek was grinning as he returned to the back of his stall, and was busy for the rest of the afternoon.
As Derek walked in the door that evening, Connie Lewis assessed him shrewdly. ‘What are you looking so happy about?’
‘I’ve got a date, Gran.’
‘Have you now? And who with? I hope she’s a nice girl and not one of these painted tarts you see nowadays. Does she live around here?’
‘Now then, Gran, I’m twenty-six, not sixteen, and don’t need an inquisition. But yes, she’s a nice girl and I think you’d like her. Now, I’m off upstairs to have a bath.’
Connie frowned as her grandson left the room. Derek wasn’t one for the girls so she was surprised to hear he had a date. She was under no illusions. Derek couldn’t be described as handsome. He’d been a plain little boy when he’d come to live with her, and was plain now, but of course boxing hadn’t helped.
Yet he was a lovely lad, kind and caring, in fact, sometimes too caring. She smiled, remembering all the lost and wounded animals he’d brought home over the years, from wild birds to cats. In fact they still had one of the cats now, a fat and lazy creature that spent all day asleep on a chair.
As if knowing she was thinking about him, Marmalade opened one eye, yawned and stretched, rousing himself enough to settle in another position before closing his eye again. Connie smiled. Yes, Marmalade was a good name for the ginger cat, and she was quite fond of the old thing really.
She rose to her feet, walking across the kitchen to feed cabbage into the pan of boiling water on the stove. Unbidden, Connie found herself thinking about her daughter, an expression of sadness crossing her face. Mary had got herself pregnant and had never revealed the name of Derek’s father, but she didn’t deserve to die that way – trapped under the rubble of a pub when it had been bombed during the war.
‘What’s for dinner, Gran?’ Derek asked as he returned downstairs, towelling his hair dry.
‘Stewed steak.’
‘Smashing.’
‘Where are you taking this girl tonight?’
‘We’re going to the flicks.’
‘Well, just make sure you behave yourself!’
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
‘Oh, sorry, love. Take no notice of me. I know you’ll be a perfect gentleman.’
‘What’s up, Gran? You not only sound snappy, you look a bit down too.’
‘I was just thinking about your mother. It’s her birthday tomorrow.’
‘We’ll take some flowers up to the cemetery as usual.’
‘She seems to fill my mind more than ever around this time. I don’t know why. It’s almost as though she draws close to me on her birthday. I know she wasn’t much of a mother to you, but I’ll never forgive myself for the way I treated her.’
‘Gran, it was a long time ago and about time you forgave yourself. And, well, to be honest, I can hardly remember her now.’
Connie checked the vegetables and, seeing they were ready, she drained them before dishing up their dinner. As she placed the plates on the table and sat opposite Derek, her eyes flicked to an old black-and-white photograph of her daughter on the mantelpiece. Mary had been such a pretty girl, with dark hair and eyes, and Connie couldn’t help the comparison. Derek bore no resemblance to his mother at all. In fact he didn’t look like anyone in the family. He was big, lumbering, with wide shoulders and a large head. There was something Slavic-looking about his features – Polish, maybe? She heaved a sigh, knowing full well that Derek’s origins were something they would never know. And now as she began to eat, she was just praying that this girl he was taking out wouldn’t hurt him.
Chapter Eight
Pearl went into her room and slumped onto the side of the bed. She’d been taken by surprise when Derek asked her out, saying yes without really thinking about it.
At first it had been nice to have her own place, but now had to admit that she was growing lonely. Art classes didn’t start until September, and sitting alone in her bedsit every evening had lost its appeal.
Derek was a nice man and she pictured his face, his misshapen nose, thick lips, and heavy brows, softened by his lovely, kind smile. She had only coveted his friendship, but his invitation sounded like a date. What if he tried to kiss her? She had never been out with a man before, and had no idea what to expect, but surely there must be a way to make Derek understand that it really was only friendship she sought.
Pearl rose to make herself a drink. If Kevin Dolby had asked her out it would have been different. She’d have jumped at the chance, and shivered at the thought of being held in his arms. Don’t be silly, she told herself, smiling wryly. Kevin would never look at her twice and it was just a silly dream. When the kettle boiled she made the tea, pleased that nowadays she had milk and sugar. Nevertheless she only put a small amount of each into her cup. She had only half the tables in the café now, and that meant half the tips. Yes, it was silly to dream about Kevin, but art classes were a different matter and still within reach if she was extra careful with her money.
At six o’clock Pearl stood at her sink having a strip wash, after which she surveyed her frugal wardrobe. There wasn’t much to choose from and she would love some new clothes, but more important was saving for paint and brushes. She pulled on a navy cotton skirt that had faded with so many washes, adding a blue striped blouse with a Peter Pan collar. Without navy shoes to match, she would have to wear her usual black, low-heel court shoes, and after flicking a brush through her hair she was ready.
Derek rang the bell on the dot of seven and, stomach fluttering with nerves, Pearl picked up her rather old-fashioned clip-top handbag before going downstairs.
He grinned when he saw her. ‘Hello. You look nice.’
Pearl took in his appearance. He was wearing a grey striped suit with wide lapels, the material straining across his huge shoulders. His shirt was white and his tie a bit loud, but she returned the compliment. ‘You look nice too.’
Derek’s face suffused with colour, the red flush rising from his neck to his hairline. ‘Thanks,’ he spluttered, and gaining some equilibrium added, ‘Right, are you ready to go?’
They jumped on a bus that took them along Falcon Road and up St John’s Hill to the cinema. The queue at the ticket office was short, and then Pearl smiled when Derek went to the kiosk to buy her a box of chocolates.
‘Here you are,’ he said, his smile a little shy as he handed them to her.
Pearl thanked him and then he took her arm, walking up to an usherette, who clipped their tickets before they went in to see the film.
It was pitch-black as they pushed through the double doors, but another usherette came forward, shining her torch along a row of seats about three down from the back. Pearl shuffled past a few people, whispering apologies, and then pulled down the folding seat, sitting hurriedly. Derek sat down heavily beside her just as the Pathé News began, and they settled back to watch.
Halfway through the B movie, Pearl opened her chocolates, offering the box to Derek and finding that as the flickering, bluish light from the screen playing across his face, it emphasised his pug nose and craggy cheeks. He turned to smile at her, the effect softening, but she quickly looked away. His bulk filled the seat, Pearl feeling tiny beside him, and moments later he was groping for her hand. She surreptitiously moved it, taking another sweet from the box and offering one to Derek, the moment thankfully passing.
The main film was on, Marlene Dietrich looking beautiful and sultry, when Pearl stiffened. Derek’s arm was moving slowly around her shoulders. God, what should she do? She didn’t want to encourage him, but didn’t want to lose his friendship either.
Hastily she whispered, ‘Sorry, Derek, I need to go to the powder room.’
Pearl spent a long time in the ladies, staring at herself in the mirror and dreading going back to sit beside Derek. He was a lovely man, she knew that, but at the thought of being in his arms and kissed by him, she quaked.
‘Well, Pearl, what did you think of the movie?’ Derek asked as they made their way home.
‘It was good, and thanks for taking me.’
‘We’ll have to do it again soon.’
‘Yes,’ she said quietly.
‘I tell you what. How do you feel about coming round one night to meet my gran? She’s a lovely old girl and I know you’d like her.’
Pearl sucked in her breath. If she didn’t say something now, she’d lose her nerve. ‘I’d like that Derek, and I’m glad that we’ve become friends. I’m too young to think about having a boyfriend, so this is lovely.’
‘Yeah, right,’ Derek said.
She caught the note of disappointment in his voice. ‘I know you live with your gran, but what about your parents?’ she asked softly. ‘I haven’t heard you mention them.’
‘My mother was killed during the war, and I don’t know who my father is.’
Pearl smiled at him with sympathy. ‘I don’t know anything about either of my parents.’
‘We’ve got something in common then.’
Pearl rapidly changed the subject. ‘Did I tell you I’m starting art classes in September?’
‘No,’ Derek said, and for the rest of the journey back to Battersea High Street, she spoke of her ambitions.
It was as they drew level with her bedsit that the door to the shop opened, Nobby Clark coming out, with Kevin Dolby behind him.
‘Watcha, Nobby … Kevin,’ Derek said. ‘Me and Pearl have just been to the flicks.’
Kevin’s smile was tight. ‘Is that right? Sorry, mate, we can’t stop to chat.’
Pearl frowned as they walked away. ‘Kevin once told me that he didn’t know Nobby Clark, but now they seem very friendly.’
‘I think you must have got the wrong end of the stick. They go back years; we all do. Kevin is about five years younger than us, but as a nipper he was always hanging around us older lads. Nobby used to be the ringleader and I ain’t proud of the things we got up to but, unlike Nobby, I grew out of it.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘You know what young lads are like. We were always up to mischief.’
Pearl shook her head, unable to make sense of it all. She was sure that Kevin had said he didn’t know Nobby Clark. He had lied. But why?
Kevin climbed into his car and, leaning over, he opened the passenger door for Nobby, his mind on Pearl Button. Shit! The bloody girl had seen him with Nobby and that was the last thing he wanted.
‘Bloody hell, Derek and Pearl Button. Talk about beauty and the beast,’ Nobby chuckled as he climbed into the passenger seat.
‘Beauty? Pearl ain’t a beauty.’
‘Take a closer look, mate. Her clothes aren’t up to much, and she doesn’t wear a scrap of makeup, but when you get a good gander at her face, she’s a bit of all right.’
‘Don’t tell me you fancy her too?’
‘Nah, she’s too scrawny for me, but I can see the attraction for Derek. He always was a soft bugger and I think the girl brings out his protective instinct.’ He chuckled again. ‘When we were kids, do you remember that dog? Derek went mad when we chucked stones at it.’
‘Yeah, I remember. He nearly blew his top. When Derek’s got his pepper up he can be a nasty sod.’
Kevin revved the car, but before driving off he paused. ‘Look, mate, I ain’t sure about casing this joint. It’s a bit too soon after the last job and I thought we were going to lay low for a bit.’
‘We only got peanuts for those fags and I need more dosh. Dick Smedley said this job would be a doddle. Come on, it won’t hurt to take a look.’
In half an hour they were sitting outside the storage depot. It was in total darkness and there was little to be seen, but even so, Nobby peered through the windscreen. ‘Dick’s right, it looks a piece of cake. It’s still in Vince’s manor so we’ll have to clear it with him, but as long as we offer him the gear, I reckon he’ll be OK.’
‘What makes Dick so sure they store booze?’
‘’Cos he went there pretending to apply for a job.’
‘What about the alarm system?’
‘According to Dick it’ll be easy to nobble.’
‘Huh, and he’s an expert, is he?’ Kevin’s voice dripped with sarcasm.
‘What’s the matter? Turning chicken, are you?’
‘You know me better than that. Anyway, it’d be a waste of time using my car. We’d only get a few cases in the boot.’
‘Like I said, you should’ve got a van, you daft sod. Still, it shouldn’t be a problem. We can nick a van and dump it afterwards.’
Kevin chewed his bottom lip. Up to now, Nobby and Dick had only attempted petty thieving, low risk, but small returns. Now they were looking for bigger jobs, bringing him on board as the driver. There was no doubt this one could make them a lot of money, and at that thought he grinned. ‘All right. I’m in.’
‘Good boy. Right, let’s get back to Battersea.’
Kevin drove home, dropped Nobby off outside his house, and then parked at the back of the café.
His thoughts turned to Pearl Button again, and he scowled. On occasions, until they could shift it, they stored a bit of stolen gear in the back room of Nobby’s empty shop. What if Pearl got nosy again? What if she found it? And if she did, would she link it to him? He was frowning as he quietly went up to the flat, holding his breath as he tiptoed past his mother’s room. Maybe he should have a quiet word in Pearl’s ear. The girl needed a hint that if she was going to live around here, no matter what she saw, or heard, if she wanted to stay in one piece the best policy was to keep her lips zipped.
Chapter Nine
Pricilla Unsworth sat behind her desk at the orphanage, relieved that she had finally sorted the records in preparation for her retirement. They were all in order, but one remained, one that had been carefully guarded from prying eyes. It was Pearl Button’s, the child who had provided her nest egg, and taking out all but the barest details, she was going to destroy it, leaving no trace behind.
When she’d been approached all those years ago, she’d agreed to the ruse, and made sure that she was the one to find the new-born baby on the steps.
Everything had been done by letter; unsigned, with a box number as the return address. With so much to gain, Pricilla had diligently followed the instructions. The person who’d abandoned Pearl wanted no risks, and certainly no questions asked. To that end he, or she, had insisted that Pearl Button was never fostered out, or put up for adoption. Pricilla had thought this over-cautious in the extreme, but financially the arrangement suited her well. For each year that Pearl Button remained in the orphanage, Pricilla had been paid, the money building up to a nice little nest egg.
She picked up the thin file. No doubt the child had been born out of wedlock, perhaps another victim of a wartime romance, but it was almost as if this person wanted to punish the baby along with the mother. Many times she had wondered who she’d dealt with, and had decided it was a man. Of course she couldn’t be certain, but surely only a man could act so callously.
There had been just one sticky moment that occurred during Pearl’s last year, but thankfully it had passed. Pricilla had been surprised when she’d received a letter from a woman enquiring about an abandoned baby, giving only the date of birth. When Pricilla realised it was Pearl’s, her heart had missed a beat. She’d replied, denying any knowledge of the child, and to be on the safe side had arranged for Pearl to leave the orphanage earlier than anticipated. Thankfully that there had been no further enquiries.
It was over now, the girl no longer under her care. Pearl Button had left the orphanage, she had been found employment, a place in a hostel, but that was as far as Pricilla’s authority went. She had no idea where the girl was now, and didn’t care. It was done, finished with, and Pricilla smiled. The money she’d received for Pearl Button had provided a decent retirement fund, and now a nice little cottage in the country beckoned.
About to tear the letter to pieces, she was annoyed to hear a knock on the door. ‘Yes, what is it?’
The art teacher came into the office, her eyes puzzled as she gazed at Pricilla’s poised fingers. Quickly stuffing the letter back in the file, she saw Emily Rosen placing an envelope on her desk.
‘What’s that?’
‘I’ve come to tender my resignation.’
‘Really?’ Pricilla said. ‘And may I ask why?’
‘There is no longer any reason for me to stay.’
Pricilla shook her head impatiently. The woman wasn’t making any sense, but what did it matter? She was leaving too and wouldn’t have the task of finding a replacement. In truth, she had never liked the woman, finding her too inquisitive about the children, asking to see records that were none of her business. There was another knock on her door, and heaving a sigh of exasperation she called, ‘Come in.’
‘Oh, Miss Unsworth, can you come quickly?’ the harassed teacher begged. ‘A serious fight has broken out in the playground and I can’t break it up.’
Pricilla tutted with impatience. ‘I can’t deal with it now.’
‘But, Miss Unsworth, it’s the older girls and I can’t get through them to the poor child they’re picking on. She’s on the ground and looks to be in a dreadful state.’
Pricilla rose hastily to her feet. ‘I’ll have to sort this out,’ she told Miss Rosen.
The woman nodded, saying quietly, ‘Very well.’
Pricilla hurried from her office, but had she looked back, she would have seen the art teacher surveying the file she’d mistakenly left on her desk. Emily Rosen reached to pick it up, flicking it open. As she scanned the contents, a gasp escaped her lips. Her face lit up with joy and for a moment she hugged the file to her chest. Then, carefully replacing it in the exact position she had found it, Emily Rosen scurried out.
In Battersea, Pearl was looking at her sketches. Of all of them, the drawing of Derek stood out as best. His kind eyes looked incongruous against his craggy features, but Pearl thought she had captured the essence of the man. She picked up the sketch of Nora and frowned. She didn’t see much of the cleaner, and the sketch was one she wasn’t happy with. Nora had a round face that was somehow featureless, making it difficult to capture on paper. There was something missing, and as she tried to picture the woman in her mind, she realised it was Nora’s childlike innocence. Placing Nora’s picture to one side, Pearl lifted one of her favourites, a sketch of Frank Hanwell’s son.
She had seen the lad a couple of times hanging around his dad’s stall and was taken by the eight-year-old’s features. He had dark, unruly hair, a tiny nose sprinkled with freckles, but it was his cheeky, gap-toothed smile that Pearl had wanted to capture. She gazed critically at the sketch. It wasn’t perfect, and without paint she had been unable to capture the boy’s wonderful emerald-green eyes.
Placing the drawing back inside the folder, her thoughts returned to Derek Lewis. He’d looked disappointed when she told him they could only be friends, but had still invited her to meet his gran. Thinking of that, her eyes widened. He’d be here soon and she wasn’t ready!
As she dashed around, Pearl knew why she had agreed to go to Derek’s house. She was curious – curious to see what a normal home looked like. All she had known was the orphanage and then the hostel, family life a mystery to her. She’d heard talk, of course. When girls came back to the orphanage after being fostered for a while, they spoke of the families they had stayed with and she had listened to their stories with avid interest. Of course, not all of the tales were good ones, and some were horrible. One girl of thirteen had been used as a servant, forced to do housework from early morning to night, and had slept in a small, cold room under the eaves of the house.
When she heard a knock on the street door, Pearl shook her thoughts away as she hurried downstairs. The orphanage held mostly bad memories, ones she wanted to forget.
‘Hello, love,’ Derek said. ‘I’ve told Gran I’m bringing you round and she’s looking forward to it.’
‘Is she?’ Pearl found she was suddenly nervous and as they walked along the High Street she clung to Derek’s arm. He looked down at her, smiling with pleasure and she managed a small smile back. Oh, he was a nice man. Would his gran be the same?
It didn’t take them long to reach Derek’s house. As they walked in Connie Lewis stepped forward.
‘Hello, ducks, nice to meet you,’ she said, leading them into a small room at the front.
‘It’s nice to meet you too,’ Pearl said, smiling shyly. Derek’s gran was a surprise. She was a tiny, thin woman with sharp features, but like Derek, her eyes were kind.
‘Take a seat, love,’ she invited.
‘Thank you,’ Pearl said, doing so.
‘Derek tells me you’re an orphan.’
‘Yes, that’s right.’
‘How old were you when you were put in the orphanage?’
‘From what I’ve been told, I was a new-born baby and left on the steps.’
‘Oh, that’s awful. Your mother must have been desperate to do that.’
Pearl looked down at the threadbare rug under her feet. Yes, her mother must have been desperate, perhaps unmarried, but Pearl would never know the answers. Over the years she had thought about her. Did they look alike? She had read a novel once in which a servant had been taken by the master and then thrown on to the streets. Was that what had happened to her mother? Scenario after scenario filled her mind. Had her mother been ill – too ill to look after her – and, as she had never come back to claim her, had she died?
‘I’m sorry, love. Me and my big mouth, and now I’ve upset you,’ Connie cried.
‘No, please, I’m all right.’
‘I’ll go and make us all a cup of tea,’ she said, bustling from the room.
‘Sorry about that, Pearl. My gran does have a tendency to put her foot in it, but she doesn’t mean any harm.’
‘It’s all right. There’s no need to apologise.’
Pearl gazed around the room with interest. There was a three-piece suite, and she was sitting on one of the rather lumpy chairs. Under the window she saw a highly polished sideboard, with a lace runner across the top on which sat a few china ornaments. The fireplace was small, and covering the grate there was a little painted paper screen in the shape of a fan. There was a carved fender, and in one alcove a small table on which sat a rather ugly plant. Even with so little furniture the room was crowded, and there was the faint scent of lavender in the air. Pearl found it cosy and wondered what the rest of the house was like.
‘Here we are,’ Connie said as she came back into the room.
Derek took the rather laden tray from her, admonishing, ‘You should have called me, Gran. This weighs a ton.’