The Street

Alice, who had up till now been watching and listening, decided to give her sister some support. ‘You ain’t scared ’cos you ain’t been here long enough,’ she piped up. ‘Wait till you meet the other boys; they’ll beat you both up, you give ’em lip.’

‘Yeah.’ Sophy nodded. ‘Wait till you meet a few of ’em. Robertson brothers wot live across the road’ll thrash you good ‘n’ proper. Let’s see how big yer mouth is then.’

Danny hooted and began to act palsied. ‘Look! I’m shakin’ in me boots.’

‘You will be!’ Sophy answered but she was already edging away, aware that no gains were to be made.

The Lovat boys began to shift too. One last challenging stare over their shoulders and they were carrying on towards the shop.

Sophy stared boldly after them. ‘Knew I wouldn’t like ’em soon as I saw ’em,’ she announced loud enough for them to hear.

‘Don’t think they’re bothered whether we like ’em or not,’ Alice muttered. ‘Don’t think they like us either.’

‘Good!’ Sophy flounced about. Grabbing Bethany’s hand she yanked on it and they headed off home.

They were close to the junction with Paddington Street when Alice spotted Sarah Whitton outside her house with one of her older sisters. Louisa Whitton looked to be in a fine temper and Sarah was scooting backwards away from her, obviously to escape a whack. Louisa was a hefty, sweaty girl of about eighteen, not too bright and known to use brawn rather than brain. All of a sudden she lunged at Sarah and swiped her across the face, making her young sister howl and rub frantically at a scarlet cheek.

‘Wonder what’s goin’ on?’ Sophy murmured to Alice. Her features had transformed from moodiness, brought on by the confrontation with the Lovats, to anticipation. Family fights in the street were a common occurrence in Campbell Road and provided a bit of light relief for people living with the monotony of poverty.

‘Come on, let’s go ‘n’ see,’ Sophy urged. They started to walk faster, Bethany lagging behind. As they got closer they could hear Louisa’s raucous accusations as she stalked her sister with her fists at the ready.

‘Thievin’ li’l bitch! Give it me back or I’ll lay you out, right here ‘‘n’ now.’

‘Ain’t got it . . . ain’t got it, I tell yer. Let me go in . . . Mum’ll tell you, I ain’t got no money.’

‘What’s up?’ Alice called and ran closer to her friend. She liked Sarah and felt concerned on her behalf. She also wanted to help if she could. A worm of guilt was already squirming unpleasantly in her belly as an idea of what might be wrong entered her mind.

‘Keep yer nose out,’ Louisa bawled at her and wagged a threatening finger. She came close enough for it to land and shove against Alice’s nose. ‘You Keivers need ter mind yer own.’

‘You don’t want to let me mum hear you say that,’ Sophy piped up then piped down as Louisa shot her a pugnacious look.

‘Give me the money you got fer it, you li’l cow.’ Louisa advanced again on her snivelling sister.

‘What’s she on about?’ Alice demanded of her friend as Sarah cuffed snot from her top lip.

‘She reckons I took her new blouse down the secondhand shop in the Land. I never did, I swear.’

‘You lyin’ mare. If you didn’t who did, then? ’Cos I just been down Queensland Road ‘n’ saw it in the winder and that’s where I just got it from. Solly said he remembers a girl about your age took it in. Cost me two ‘n’ six to buy back me own soddin’ blouse. And he wanted more for it!’

Alice suddenly went very pale and very quiet. She looked at Sophy to see that her sister seemed to be engrossed in this spectacle. So were various other people who had lazily propped themselves against doorjambs or railings to watch what was going on.

‘Go on . . . give her another dig,’ one of the boys from Sophy’s class at school called out mischievously.

‘I’ll give you a dig you don’t shut up, Herbert Banks,’ Alice yelled angrily at him.

‘One more chance then I’m gonna really set about yer,’ Louisa warned.

‘Mum!’ Sarah wailed in anguish. But everyone, even Sarah, knew that help from that quarter was very unlikely. Ginny Whitton’s nerves kept her prostrate on her bed for hours on end with just a bottle of gin for company. At this time of the afternoon it was unlikely she could hear much at all through her booze-induced meditation.

‘I’ll get your two ‘n’ six,’ Alice blurted and rushed forward to step between the two sisters.

‘What’s it to you?’ Louisa dropped her hand and stared at Alice.

‘Nuthin’ . . . she’s me friend. I’ll get your money. Just leave her alone.’ Alice felt one of her sister’s hands gripping her elbow and Sophy tried to yank her away.

‘You ain’t got half a crown,’ Sophy hissed. ‘Now she’s gonna lamp you instead, stupid.’

‘Shut up,’ Alice muttered and, shaking off her sister’s fingers, she turned and sprinted for home.

‘None of our business.’ Tilly cut Alice short as her daughter neared the end of her breathless tale of woe.

‘But it is, Mum. Sarah’s gonna get a hiding and it was me took that blouse in to Solly’s place for you and we only got one and six for it.’

‘Yeah, and it was Ginny Whitton give it to me in the first place to sell for her. If Louisa’s got a beef it’s with her mother, not with us.’

‘Will you come and tell her that? She’s waiting for half a crown.’

Tilly transferred baby Lucy from one hip to the other and sipped from a cup of lukewarm tea. She was drinking it in the hope it might take the whiff of whiskey from her breath before Jack got home. ‘I got things to do,’ she answered irritably. ‘Besides, I got enough o’ me own wars to sort out without gettin’ involved in the Whittons’ dingdongs.’ Inwardly Tilly was still brooding on her sister’s monstrous stupidity in letting Jimmy come back.

Since marrying Jimmy Wild it seemed that the pretty, confident young woman Fran had once been had all but disappeared. It infuriated Tilly to know the pig had such power over her sister that he’d started to alter her character. Yet she blamed Fran too for allowing him to return again and again to crush her more firmly beneath his boot.

‘Can I have half a crown then to get Louisa off Sarah’s back?’ Alice pleaded. ‘It ain’t fair. She ain’t done nuthin’.’

Tilly choked on her tea. ‘Get out of here before I land you one, you little tyke!’ she shrieked. ‘Give yer half a crown, indeed. If I had half a bleedin’ crown I’d be down the shop with it and get something fer yer teas tonight.’

Alice knew she was wasting her time. She’d thought straight off that her mum had been drinking from the way she was a bit unsteady on her feet. Now she knew for sure. She was obviously in a bad mood; if she’d had half a crown she’d be down the Duke with it, not down the shop buying bread and jam.

‘Louisa said us Keivers ought to mind our own,’ was Alice’s final tactic in trying to rouse her mum’s temper into action.

But Tilly was sunk in her own thoughts. One day she’d have that bastard Jimmy, she promised herself. She’d have him locked up so he’d never hurt Fran or her kids again.

Alice slipped out of the door and met her mother’s nemesis on the lower landing.

‘Alright, Al?’ Jimmy greeted her with his soppy, wonky smile.

Alice nodded but her eyes were bright with unshed tears.

Jimmy blocked her way. ‘Woss up, little ’un?’ he crooned.

‘Need half a crown urgent,’ Alice blurted. ‘Mum won’t give it me.’

‘Half a crown, eh?’ Jimmy fished in a pocket and produced a silver coin. ‘There yer go,’ he said, handing it over with a flourish.

Alice raised a wondrous, grateful smile to her uncle’s face. Half a crown was not easily come by. It had taken her two months to save that from her doorsteps and now she regretted spending it on going to the flicks and chips on the way home just last week. She’d treated Sarah too as she never had more than a few coppers to call her own despite doing odd jobs most evenings. She’d heard her dad say it was bloody astonishing that Ginny Whitton could recover well enough to wrestle away her daughters’ wages before she suffered a relapse.

‘I’ll give it you back, promise,’ Alice gasped at her uncle then fled with the coin clutched tightly in her hand.

Jimmy watched her go with a crafty smile on his face. He then raised his eyes to the landing above. He was just biding his time with that mouthy bitch . . . just biding his time . . .