Tuppence to Tooley Street by Harry Bowling

Jack Mason out of his head, it hung like a dark cloud over him, and he was tortured by a feeling of possessiveness. Yet he knew that Kathy was not about to become his; he could sense her inner conflict as she walked beside him to the corner of Clink Lane. She held his arm tightly, but at the same time she had become distant and rigid.
    Kathy stopped a few doors away from her own house. ‘We’d better say goodnight ’ere. I don’t want ter let me dad know I’ve bin out this late.’
    Danny looked skywards and felt the rain beginning to fall on his face. ‘What about us, Kathy? Can I see yer again?’
    The young girl sighed deeply and put her hands up onto Danny’s coat lapels. ‘It’s no good, I’m goin’ steady wiv Jack Mason. Let’s leave ternight fer memories. It’s somefink I’m never gonna ferget, really, Danny. It was special ternight.’
    Danny’s face darkened. ‘You frightened of ’im?’
    ‘Who, Jack? ’Course not. All right, me an’ ’im ’ad a bust up, but I don’t wanna worry yer wiv me troubles. It’s not your concern anyway.’
    ‘That’s just it,’ Danny replied, taking her by the shoulders and squeezing her tightly. ‘It is my concern. Only a little while ago we made love. It was great, we’re good tergevver. We can make a go of it again.’
    Kathy resisted his attempts to pull her close to him. ‘Listen, you’ve bin frew a terrible time. You’re gonna find yer feet again soon, an’ when yer do you’ll see this as . . . just an experience. Let’s jus’ remember ternight. We’ll still see each uvver about, an’ when we meet in the pub or in the street, we’ll look at each uvver an’ there’ll be somefing special there. Let’s leave it at that, Danny. Any uvver way an’ it’s gonna be trouble an’’eartbreak fer both of us.’
    Danny tried to pull her towards him but Kathy pushed him away. ‘No, Danny. Look, I’ve gotta get in, my dad’s givin’ me a bad time as it is.’
    Danny relaxed his grip and Kathy kissed him suddenly on the lips and turned away. He watched her trim figure disappear into the darkness.

Chapter Six
    Sunday the 30th of June 1940 dawned clear and dry after the night rain. The sun rose early, and outside the Globe the winkle stall was set up ready for trade. The paper shop in Tooley Street sold out of the News of the World early, and all the local church bells remained silent. People gathered outside their tumbledown houses in the backstreets to discuss the progress of the war, while across the English Channel the German High Command were drawing up plans to invade.
    The Sutton household was awake early as usual. Frank polished his Sunday best shoes in the yard, and Maggie brought her two children around to see Danny. Both Terry and Reggie tore up the stairs and bounded onto Danny’s bed, demanding to see his ‘soldier’s gun’. Alice was already peeling the potatoes in the scullery sink, and Lucy was on her way round to meet Ben and then on to the Methodist church in Tower Bridge Road for morning service. The Sabbath in Dawson Street was a day when the doorsteps gleamed white, lace curtains looked freshly starched and, weather allowing, old Charlie Perkins put his wicker chair outside number 14 and prepared himself for another day’s hard thinking. Crazy Bella appeared and reappeared at her front door, and the kids were their normal noisy selves–even noisier when the toffee-apple man cycled into the street. In a way it was just like any peace-time Sunday, except that during the previous week everyone in the turning had had a leaflet tucked into their letter boxes, and the street folk now had time to talk about it.
    Mr and Mrs Brightman stood at their front door and listened to Granny Bell’s furious outburst. ‘I tell yer, Flo, if I’d ’ave caught the cow-son I’d ’ave given ’im what for. Fancy comin’ round ’ere wiv that leaflet an’ fright’nin’ the bleedin’ life out of us all. All this talk about us bein’