Gaslight in Page Street by Harry Bowling Page B

ter ’is face?’ Maisie asked Aggie.
     
    ‘Get back in that yard, yer syphilitic ole sod,’ Sadie shouted at him.
     
    ‘Where yer takin’ that ’osepipe - down the chinkie laundry?’ someone called out.
     
    Jack Oxford leered at the women. There were one or two of them he was going to take pleasure in dousing. That Sullivan woman had clipped him around the ear when he chased her son away from the yard, and that Axford woman was always giving him funny looks when he passed her in the street. He stood with his feet apart and the hose pointing at the women and waited while Galloway addressed them.
     
    ‘Right then. Yer’ve ’ad yer five minutes,’ the firm owner said in a loud voice. ‘Now yer gonna get wet.’
     
    Jack’s leering grin widened and he jerked the nozzle in the direction of the women in a threatening manner. Galloway stormed back into the yard. As he was about to turn the water on William confronted him.
     
    ‘Look, George, there’s no need ter go this far. We can exercise the ’orses in the yard. There’s room ter trot ’em,’ he said quietly.
     
    Galloway glared at his yard foreman. ‘I want those ’orses run up the street,’ he declared. ‘I ain’t bowin’ ter a load o’ scatty women. I’ve give ’em fair warnin’ an’ they won’t move, so I’m gonna make ’em.’
     
    William stood in front of the stand pipe, his face set hard. ‘I still reckon yer makin’ a mistake, George,’ he said.
     
    The two stared at each other. There were times in their boyhood when there had been a clash of wills and in the past Galloway had always got his way. On this occasion, however, he was not so sure.
     
    ‘Get out o’ the way, Will,’ he said in a low voice.
     
    Outside in the street the women had become quiet and Jack Oxford stood with a maniacal expression on his bright yellow face.
     
    The curtains in the house adjoining the yard moved back into position as Nellie Tanner hurried out to the backyard. She had been watching the developing situation with mounting concern. Florrie had not invited her to take part in the women’s demonstration. ‘I won’t ask yer, Nell,’ she had said. ‘We all know your Will works fer the ole bastard an’ it’s likely ter cost ’im ’is job if Galloway sees yer in the street alongside us. Yer done yer bit tellin’ us when the army’s comin’ so don’t worry about it. We all know yer position.’
     
    Nellie had agonised over what Florrie said. They were demonstrating for the kids, after all, and she felt deep down that it was her duty to join them, regardless of what Galloway might do in reprisal. Will would not have forbidden her to join the women if he had known, she felt sure. He would take his chances and face Galloway. Now, as she saw Jack Oxford pulling out the hosepipe, Nellie knew what she had to do.
     
    Maudie was shaking from head to foot as she waited. Suddenly she remembered her Ernest’s advice. Slowly, she stood up.
     
    ‘“Onward Christian soldiers, marching as to war,”’ she began to sing in a shrill voice.
     
    ‘Sit down, yer silly mare,’ Maisie said, pulling at her coat sleeve.
     
    Maudie slumped down in her seat, suddenly feeling very silly, but she was heartened to see Sadie Sullivan jump up.
     
    ‘Good fer you, Maudie,’ she cried out, waving her rolling-pin over her head. ‘That’s what I say too. Onward Christian soldiers! I’m gonna crown that yellow-faced, stupid-lookin’ bastard right now.’
     
    Florrie caught her arm and Sadie rounded on her. A violent confrontation between the two seemed inevitable, but at that moment a murmur passed through the assembled crowd. The figure of Nellie Tanner suddenly appeared in the street. Without saying a word she marched up to the gate, took out a chopper from beneath her shawl, raised it high above her head and brought it down heavily on the hosepipe.
     
    A loud cheer rang out as Nellie straightened up and stood looking at the women for a moment or