Cockney Orphan Read online

  COCKNEY

  ORPHAN

  Carol Rivers, whose family comes from the Isle of Dogs, East London, now lives in Dorset. Visit www.carolrivers.com and follow her on Facebook and Twitter @carol_rivers

  Also by Carol Rivers

  Lizzie of Langley Street

  Bella of Bow Street

  Lily of Love Lane

  Eve of the Isle

  East End Angel

  In the Bleak Midwinter

  East End Jubilee (Previously Rose of Ruby Street)

  A Sister’s Shame

  First published in Great Britain under the title Connie of Kettle Street

  by Simon & Schuster, 2006

  A CBS COMPANY

  This paperback edition first published, 2013

  Copyright © Carol Rivers, 2006

  This book is copyright under the Berne Convention.

  No reproduction without permission.

  ® and © 1997 Simon & Schuster Inc. All rights reserved.

  The right of Carol Rivers to be identified as author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with sections 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988.

  Simon & Schuster UK Ltd

  1st Floor

  222 Gray’s Inn Road

  London WC1X 8HB

  www.simonandschuster.co.uk

  Simon & Schuster Australia, Sydney

  Simon & Schuster India, New Dehli

  A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library

  Paperback B ISBN: 978-0-85720-650-3

  E Book ISBN: 978-1-84983-520-6

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either a product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual people living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Typeset by M Rules

  Printed and bound by CPI Group (UK) Ltd, Croydon, CR0 4YY

  I dedicate this book to all the Islanders, both past and present, in celebration of their courage and tenacity.

  Acknowledgements

  My thanks to the Island History Trust Docklands Settlement and especially the Island History News which helps to keep Islanders in touch and brings memories alive of the old days. My thanks also go to my dear buddies, Chris and Bart.

  Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Epilogue

  Chapter One

  The London Blitz

  Isle of Dogs

  Saturday 7 September 1940

  Connie was running. Running as fast as her legs would carry her through the unlit streets of east London. Above her, the smoke-strewn sky was filled with an eerie, crimson glow. To the south, across the river, blood red flames leaped high into the air over London’s Surrey Docks.

  An ear-deafening bang sent a shiver through the ground. But she ran all the faster, dodging the ambulances and the firemen dousing the fires that were already spreading from the incendiary bombs. Their shouts were lost in the deafening noise of the return fire of the British anti-aircraft guns. Even the colossal barrage balloons sailing high above the city hadn’t proved an effective deterrent to the Luftwaffe.

  Connie hurdled a wall; sweat was soaking her pale blond hair and dripping on the collar of her old tweed coat. At the top of Kettle Street she stopped to wipe the moisture from her eyes and blinked at the sight of a lone cyclist pedalling towards her.

  ‘What’s up, Connie?’ The ARP warden jumped off his bike. ‘You shouldn’t be out in this lot.’

  ‘It’s Billy, Mr Jackson, he’s done his disappearing act again.’

  ‘Well, you ain’t got time to find yer brother now. You’d better get down your Anderson before the sods come back again. I’ll keep a lookout for him on me rounds.’

  ‘Thanks, Mr Jackson.’

  The warden hopped back on his bike. ‘Take care of yourself, Connie. And keep yer head down, love.’

  Connie pushed open the squeaky front gate of number thirty-three Kettle Street. The sooty but sturdy semidetached boasted a Beefeater-red front door and all four of its neat square windows were criss-crossed by blackout tape. She pulled up the length of string behind the letter box and let herself in, stood quietly in the darkened passage and listened for movement. Hearing none, she groped her way up the stairs. After what she’d found under Billy’s mattress this morning, she had no doubt as to what he’d been up to.

  In the boys’ bedroom, she slid her hand under her younger brother’s flock mattress, searching for the pile of coupons and identity cards she had discovered this morning. But now there was nothing, nothing at all, just the hard curl of the metal springs.

  ‘Sis?’

  Startled, Connie turned round. ‘Billy!’

  ‘What are you doing? Where is everyone?’

  ‘Dad’s fire watching and Mum’s gone to the public shelter. I’ve been looking all over the place for you. Mum is worrying herself silly. Where’ve you been?’

  He shrugged lazily, pushing back the tumble of blond curls that fell over his face. ‘I was with a pal, that’s all. We was having a bit of a lark when the warning went.’

  ‘A lark?’ Connie rolled her eyes. ‘Billy, there’s a war on, a real war this time. The Luftwaffe’s not playing games. I suppose you’re gonna tell me those coupons and identity cards I found when I made your bed this morning are a bit of a joke, too? What if it was Mum who’d discovered them and not me?’

  Connie waited for an explanation. At fourteen, four years her junior, Billy was already her height and still growing fast. Although they were identical in looks, with corn-coloured hair and soft blue eyes, Connie thanked her lucky stars that up until now she didn’t appear to have any of Billy’s more wayward tendencies.

  ‘You won’t tell her, will you?’ he said sheepishly.

  ‘I’d be too ashamed to and that’s a fact—’ Before Connie could finish, a huge rumble followed by a burst of bright light lit up the house. Billy grabbed her hand and pulled her down the stairs as more explosions followed one after another. Before they reached the back door, the front one blew off its hinges and landed behind them. Connie felt the rush of wind in her face and was blown against the wall. Billy dragged her on through the kitchen and into the yard. Dazed and terrified, she tumbled with him down the slippery steps of the Anderson and into the dark, musty smelling shelter covered in sandbags.

  Connie shivered as he secured the corrugated iron door behind them. Her teeth chattered, even her bones seemed to be shaking. She wondered if they would die immediately if one of the bombs hit them, or would it be a long and lingering death? She didn’t want her life to end, not now, like this. Billy pulled her down on the wooden bench. ‘’Struth, that was a close one,’ he sighed as they huddled together. ‘Stay put. I’ll light a candle.’

  A gentle amber glow soon illuminated the darkness. The meagre contents of the small sh
elter came into focus: the wooden bench they sat on, three of Dad’s army blankets folded on a stool and a row of gas masks placed on a wide wooden shelf. Squeezed beside these were four chipped enamel mugs, four plates and a brown china teapot. A bottle had fallen over beside it. Billy picked it up. ‘What’s this, Con?’

  ‘Phosferine tonic wine.’

  Billy rubbed his hands together. ‘We’re all right for a drink, then.’

  ‘Mum said it’s for medicinal purposes only.’

  He laughed. ‘I was only joking. Come on, give us a smile, we’re all in one piece, ain’t we?’

  ‘Yes, but I thought the house was coming down on top of us.’

  Billy sat beside her again as the walls of the shelter vibrated. ‘Mum’s gonna have a fit when she sees what’s happened.’ He chuckled. ‘I ain’t never seen our front door open so quick.’

  Connie admired his spirit. He was a happy kid, a character trait that endeared him to everyone. They’d grown up in poverty, knew what hardship and going hungry was when Dad had been unemployed or he’d had a bad week on the gee-gees. But Billy was bright and always on the lookout for an opportunity to make money, his natural talent aided by the outbreak of war twelve months ago. With evacuation of children in full swing, Billy had been in his element. Left to his own devices, he had relied on Connie to bail him out of the trouble that always dogged his footsteps. Now she looked at him and sighed heavily. ‘Tell me the truth, Billy. Did you steal those coupons and identity cards?’

  ‘No, Con, course not. I was just . . . looking after them for someone.’ He gave a light-hearted shrug. ‘Me mate Charlie asked me to keep a few things for him.’

  ‘Why should he do that?’

  ‘Dunno, he just did.’

  ‘Billy, this is your sister you’re talking to. I’m not daft.’

  ‘I never said you was.’

  ‘Then tell me the truth.’

  He smiled widely, lifting his hands in a gesture of innocence. ‘Come on, Con, give us a break—’

  ‘No, Billy,’ she interrupted angrily. ‘I’ve always taken your side when you’ve got in trouble because I thought it was just schoolboy pranks. But today was different. I actually saw the evidence for myself.’

  Slowly his smile faded and he leaned his elbows on his knees. ‘I found this handbag. It was just lying around.’

  ‘Then why didn’t you take it to the police station?’

  He laughed. ‘You’ve got to be joking. I’m not that much of a mug. They’d say I nicked it.’

  ‘Did you?’ Connie knew she was being lied to and Billy’s lies weren’t even very clever.

  ‘No, Con. It was like I said. Someone must’ve dropped it. It was there in the road staring me in the face. If I hadn’t grabbed it someone else would.’

  Connie wondered if he was telling her the truth. ‘It’s not so much what you do, Billy,’ she said more gently then. ‘It’s the way you come out with these stories, expect me to believe them and even stick up for you. You’re me kid brother. I don’t want you ending up on the wrong side of the law.’

  It was the emotion in her voice that made him turn and face her. ‘It’s too late, Con. I’m in over my head already.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘The handbag was kosher. But I done a really bad thing today.’ His blue eyes stared emptily into hers. ‘I broke in to someone’s gaff.’

  ‘You what?’

  ‘I climbed in through this fanlight in the back of a pawn shop up Stepney. I’m thin, see? The right build for a creeper. Getting into places and opening doors from the inside. I didn’t steal nothin’ though. These other two blokes I was with did the actual business.’

  Connie gulped. ‘Billy, I can’t believe you would do such a thing!’

  ‘I told you I didn’t steal nothing.’

  ‘So what did you do it for then? And don’t say it was just for a lark, ’cos I won’t believe you.’

  Billy muttered under his breath. ‘I wish I hadn’t told you now.’

  ‘Well, you have, so you’d better tell me the rest.’

  He looked at her sullenly. ‘I was to keep a look out, that was all. They said they’d bung me a few quid. And it would have worked out if the warning hadn’t gone. I ask you, for a whole year we’ve been twiddling our thumbs waiting for Jerry and he has to arrive today. Anyway, the old boy’s gaff was upstairs. He was deaf as a post and had to be at least ninety. If the siren hadn’t gone, he wouldn’t have known we was there. The old geezer saw Reg and Charlie stuffing the gear in the boot of the car. He was waving this rifle, a big museum piece it looked like. I heard the first shot and nearly shit me pants. I jumped in the car. Charlie jumped in beside me and there was another shot. I didn’t see what happened to Reg ’cos Charlie drove away.’

  Connie blinked as she digested the fact that they were talking about a burglary in which a gun had been used. ‘Billy, do you realize you’ve committed a crime?’ she demanded when she got her breath back.

  ‘Charlie and Reg said they’d put the squeeze on me if I didn’t.’

  ‘How could they do that?’

  ‘I done a few jobs for Reg, see. Nothing big. Not really. You name me anyone who isn’t up for a touch in wartime, Con. There’s always a bit of black market to be had and you’d be a fool not to take it. We all enjoy knocked off stuff now and then, even Mum and Dad, who turn a blind eye to a few perks, so I don’t see what all the fuss is about.’

  ‘There’s a difference between perks and stealing.’ She stared at him coldly. ‘What happened then?’

  ‘Me and Charlie was driving through Poplar and heading back to the island. Charlie’s lost his bottle and he’s heading hell for leather for the foot tunnel. He lives over Greenwich, see? Well, the next thing I know is he’s had it on his toes and I’m left sitting there like a lemon with me dabs all over the car.’

  ‘What car? Who does it belong to?’ Connie asked bewilderedly.

  ‘Dunno. Charlie nicked it for the job.’

  ‘Billy, that’s terrible.’

  ‘I told you, I got in too deep to get out.’

  They sat in silence. Connie’s heart pounded as she thought of the repercussions of the mounting crimes that Billy was involved in.

  ‘You can drive, Con,’ Billy said suddenly. ‘You learned last year for the war effort. It would be dead easy for you to drive the motor right up to the river, then we could just push it in.’

  ‘You are joking, I hope?’

  ‘I ain’t got no one else to ask, Con. If the coppers find that car with me fingerprints in, I’m a dead duck. I’ll get me collar tugged and what will Mum do then? She’d never live down the shame of it. I couldn’t do that to her, honest I couldn’t.’

  ‘Why didn’t you think of that before, Billy?’

  ‘I know. Today has taught me the lesson of a lifetime.’

  ‘And I’m supposed to believe you?’

  He reached out to grasp her hand. ‘It’s the truth, Con. I want to change me ways. I just need a chance. The car is the only thing that links me with the job. No one’s gonna find it in the water, not for ages, especially with Jerry doing his business. Even the divers can’t see a foot in front of them on a clear day.’ He squeezed her hand tightly. ‘Remember as kids we’d watch them with their big bowl helmets and long pipes? You was always telling me they kept goldfish in them, remember? Happy days, weren’t they, gel?’

  Connie knew she was a soft touch and Billy was taking advantage of it. If he was caught, Mum would never live down the shame. Being arrested and sent to prison was something that happened to others but not to the Marsh family. As for her own job at Dalton’s Import, Storage and Transport Services – well, she’d soon be brought down to earth with all the gossip that would abound. But all these things were nothing compared to the effect that prison would have on Billy himself.

  He’d been such an innocent, lovely kid once, always trailing at her heels, just wanting to be with her. She was close to Kev too, but in a differ
ent way. Kevin was practical, like Mum, and self-sufficient. Billy was a dreamer and vulnerable. She didn’t want to believe those days were over, that Billy was growing away from her into someone she didn’t know.

  She looked into his eyes. ‘I must be mad to listen to you, Billy Marsh.’

  He hugged her hard. ‘I knew you’d understand.’

  She couldn’t refuse the little boy who smelled of dirt and soap and had made her laugh with his funny antics, never taking anything seriously if he could help it. She looked into his young face, at the angelic features and soft, full lips of a child. He still had bum fluff on his chin and her heart went out to the brother she adored. ‘I love you, Billy Marsh. And that’s my trouble. I love you too much.’

  Chapter Two

  The raid, which had started about four o’clock, now seemed to be over. Connie had never known such a long two hours and even when the all clear went, she didn’t want to stick even her nose outside the Anderson, much less her whole body.

  ‘Come on, this is our chance,’ Billy insisted, grabbing her arm.

  ‘But what if the planes come back,’ Connie argued, ‘and we’re caught in the open?’

  ‘All the more reason to hurry,’ Billy urged as he struggled to dislodge the door. ‘If we’re lucky, Jerry might have clobbered the motor, blasted it sky high, and that would solve all our problems, eh?’

  Connie wasn’t sure which she was most frightened of, a return of the enemy bombers or helping Billy to dispose of the car. She was about to voice her doubts when he managed to pull open the door. Half a dozen sandbags toppled in, followed by a cloud of dust. Billy stepped over them and looked up at the house. ‘Blimey, the place is still standing! That’s a miracle, that is.’

  Connie peered over his shoulder. Number thirty-three Kettle Street was a pale shadow lost in the swirling dust, but all was intact as far as she could see.

  ‘Watch your step,’ Billy warned as he led the way into the house. They stepped across the fallen door and paused in the gap at the front where it had once hung. A September breeze whistled past them, bringing with it the smell of burning oil. Shrapnel, bricks and shattered glass were strewn across the little patch of grass outside and all the way down the street.