Backstreet Child by Harry Bowling Page B

on a train, an’ certainly not wiv a young man.’
     
    Carrie gave her mother a patient smile. ‘Times are different now. Besides, Rachel’s a sensible gel. She wouldn’t let any boy take advantage of ’er. They’re stayin’ wiv Derek’s aunt an’ Rachel said she’s very proper. She wouldn’t stand any nonsense.’
     
    Nellie sniffed contemptuously and Joe and Carrie exchanged brief glances. They had both talked about it the previous night and Carrie had told him that she was convinced the two young people had become lovers. ‘She’s my daughter, remember, Joe,’ she had said. ‘I know ’ow I felt when I first came ter you. It was as though I was walkin’ on air. I’ve sensed a change in Rachel this past few weeks. I can’t explain it, it’s jus’ somefing I can feel.’
     
    Joe nodded. He had been certain, too, by the change in Rachel’s attitude towards him. She had always shown him her affection in an innocent, childish way, her eyes eagerly seeking his praise or approval. Lately, however, she had kept a distance, becoming almost shy on meeting his gaze. Joe knew that her love for him had not lessened in any way, but her manner was different now that she had experienced an all-embracing love with her handsome young man.
     
    The meal had been delicious and the pleasant feeling of tiredness played at his eyelids as Joe resumed his place beside the fire. He felt happier now than he had felt for a long time. He had the love of a very attractive woman in his middle age, a home, and a life that was beginning to mean something again. The only cloud on the horizon was the dark threat of war, and at that particular moment he did not have the inclination to dwell on his fears.
     
    Carrie came into the room and switched on the wireless. As he let his tired eyes close, Joe heard the chimes of Big Ben and then the deep voice of the news announcer. ‘This is the nine o’clock news and this is Frank Phillips reading it. In Parliament today the Government announced a trial run of the blackout. It will take place some time in August . . .’
     
    Sleep overtook Joe and he slipped into a troubled slumber.
     

Chapter Six
     
    During the summer of ’39 Page Street said goodbye to some of its long-time dwellers. First to leave were the Smiths. Bill ‘Broomhead’ Smith and his wife Alice did not bother to say farewell to their next-door neighbours when they left in June to go to live near Broomhead’s sister in Kent. The ex-totter had effectively heightened his yard wall with corrugated sheeting after Wallace’s attempt to burn the house down and from that day on no word was exchanged by the two families. Whenever they saw each other on the street they would cross over, or walk on by without a glimmer of recognition. Now, as Dolly Dawson watched the removal van leaving from next door, she prayed that her next neighbours would be a little more sympathetic towards her problems than the Smiths had been. Broomhead had often growled and pulled faces at Wallace over the yard wall, and on one occasion he had so terrified the backward young man by waving a hammer at him that he would not venture into the yard if he knew Broomhead was at home, which was exactly what the ex-totter had intended to happen.
     
    In July there were more departures. Granny Phillips left, followed soon after by her long-time suitor, the elderly widower Jack Whitmore. Nobby Smith and his long-suffering wife were next to go, leaving a quieter and less volatile atmosphere in the Kings Arms, and in August, as the war clouds were gathering, Page Street lost one of its most loved characters.
     
    Maisie Dougall had finished her shopping on Friday morning and called in at the tobacconist shop on the corner of Page Street on her way home. The proprietor Albert Lockwood had recently bought the shop and was eager to build up his trade. Albert had realised early on in his retailing career that like it or not he was obliged to spend time chatting with