Gaslight In Page Street Part 38

'So this is yer boy, is it?' Mitch.e.l.l sneered. 'Got a lot ter say fer 'imself, ain't 'e? Well, if I was you I'd tell 'im not ter get too lippy, 'e might come unstruck.'

Before William could reply, Danny took him by the shoulders and gently eased him to one side. 'So you're the famous Jake Mitch.e.l.l, are yer?' he said quietly. 'I've 'eard a lot about you. Bin knockin' 'em all out, so yer told everybody. Well, maybe now the war's over you'll get a better cla.s.s o' fighter up against yer.'

Mitch.e.l.l moved forward menacingly. 'Yer not includin' yerself on that list, are yer, sonny?' he sneered.

Danny grinned calmly. 'Yer past it, Mitch.e.l.l. Yer wouldn't go the distance wiv me.'

Carrie and her mother had jumped up from their seats and as they tried to pull Danny away Alec Crossley leapt smartly over the counter and placed himself in front of Jake Mitch.e.l.l. 'The war's over, pal, an' I'm not gonna be a party ter any more 'ostilities. Now drink up an' let's 'ave no more of it. That goes fer you too, Danny. Understood?'

Mitch.e.l.l's eyes were bulging. 'Me an' you, sonny, first opportunity. An' we'll 'ave our own little side bet on the outcome,' he sneered.

Danny nodded. 'Suits me fine. Sooner the better,' he said, turning his back.

'You'll be 'earin' when, Tanner,' Galloway's foreman shouted over as the publican hustled him to the door.

When Mitch.e.l.l had left Nellie rounded on her son. 'I'm not 'avin' it!' she raved. 'I told yer, I won't allow a boy o' mine ter be a fighter. Christ Almighty! Ain't yer 'ad enough o' fightin'? Do somefink, Will. Tell 'im.'

William shrugged his shoulders. ''E's a bit too big fer me ter chastise. Did yer see the way 'e put me ter one side?' he grinned.

Nellie gave him a withering look and flounced back to her seat, while Carrie smiled slyly at her younger brother. 'Yer'd better get inter trainin',' she said quietly.

Florrie Axford was sitting in her parlour with her friends. Nellie had joined the company but looked pale and ill. She clasped her hands nervously as Florrie banged her fist down on the table.

'We done it before at the Kings Arms an' we'll do it again at the Crown,' she declared. 'If we all go there tergevver, they daren't stop us goin' in. We'll tell 'em we want ter place bets an' we're gonna cheer our boy on.'

'I couldn't go,' Maudie said, shuddering. 'First drop o' blood spilled an' I'd be ill, I know I would.'

'Well, n.o.body's makin' yer. Jus' give us yer bet money an' we'll put it on fer yer,' Sadie scowled at her.

'I couldn't bet on men killin' each over,' Maudie went on.

'Don't be so melodramatic,' Florrie said sharply. 'Danny ain't gonna kill 'im. 'E's only gonna knock that ugly great git right out, ain't 'e, Nell?'

Nell looked very worried. 'I wish 'e'd never got 'imself inter this,' she sighed weakly. ''E knows 'ow I feel about fightin'.'

Sadie waved her anxieties away with a sweep of her large arm. 'Don't worry, Nell,' she bl.u.s.tered. 'My Billy's 'elpin' 'im wiv 'is trainin' an' 'e knows all about such fings. Matter o' fact it's a pleasure ter see Billy takin' an interest in somefing at last. 'E's bin a different lad since your Danny come back 'ome. It was nice ter see the pair of 'em this mornin', goin' out runnin' in the park. Mind yer, my Billy come back lookin' like a train 'ad 'it 'im an' 'e was wheezin' like a concertina. Poor sod's chest ain't too good.'

Florrie held her hand up for silence then leaned forward over the table. 'Now listen, gels, me an' Sadie 'ave bin puttin' our 'eads tergevver an' this is what we're gonna do ...'

Carrie Tanner shivered against the cold wind as she stood beside her brother on the platform at Waterloo Station. All around them soldiers in full kit were hugging their loved ones and sweeping young children up into their arms before climbing aboard the military train to Southampton. Charlie turned anxiously to his sister.

'Now listen, Carrie,' he said as he looked at her intently, 'I want yer ter be 'appy. Try an' keep an eye on Mum an' Dad, won't yer?'

She sighed heavily. 'Gawd, I wish yer 'adn't signed on, Charlie,' she said sadly. 'I won't be seein' yer fer ages an' ages, an' I'm gonna miss yer terribly.'

He smiled at her and softly kissed her cheek. 'It's fer the best, Carrie,' he said quietly. 'I wouldn't 'ave 'ad any 'appiness if I'd stayed in Bermon'sey. It 'olds too many memories, too many ghosts. Anyway, India sounds like an excitin' place,' he added quickly. 'Who knows? I might get the chance ter ride an elephant or be the guard of honour in some prince's 'arem!'

His lightheartedness was lost on Carrie who bit back tears as the guard appeared on the platform, holding his flag.

'Now you take care, bruv,' she cried as she hugged him tightly. 'Write ter me as soon as yer can.'

He climbed aboard the train quickly and stowed his kitbag in the luggage rack before leaning back out of the carriage window.

'Be 'appy, Carrie, an' don't worry about Danny. 'E's gonna win,' he shouted above the din as the train started to move. 'I love yer, sis.'

Carrie stood in the pale January sunlight and waved until the train was out of sight, then she turned slowly and walked out of the station, blinking back her tears. Charlie had looked cheerful, but the deep sadness in his eyes had cut into her like a sharp knife. She could still see the look on her mother's face as she said goodbye to him that morning. Nellie had embraced him gently and then stood there gazing at him with a faraway look in her eyes. It felt to Carrie almost as if something inside her mother died.

She pulled her coat around her against the cold as she stood at the tram stop, and a feeling of dread began to grow inside her. Her mother had been looking ill lately, and Charlie's departure seemed to have shaken her badly. She had already been worried out of her life over Danny's coming fight with Jake Mitch.e.l.l. Carrie knew instinctively that her mother needed her, and decided to go straight home. Fred would be able to take care of the cafe for a while, she was sure.

By the time Carrie stepped down from the tram in Jamaica Road and reached the dilapidated buildings in Bacon Street it was nearing midday. She climbed the dusty wooden stairs and knocked on the front door of her parents' flat. As she stood waiting she could smell the stench rising up from the communal dustbins below. It seemed a long time before anyone answered, and when her mother finally opened the door Carrie could see dark circles around her puffed eyes.

'Are yer all right, Mum?' she asked with concern as she walked into the flat.

Nellie did not answer. She slumped down into a chair beside the table and buried her head in her arms, sobbing bitterly.

'I couldn't tell 'im, Carrie,' she moaned. 'I dunno what I should've done, but I couldn't tell 'im.'

Carrie bent down and slipped her arm around her mother's shoulders. 'What is it, Mum?' she said gently. 'What couldn't yer tell 'im?'

For a while Nellie said nothing, and then after what seemed like an eternity she took Carrie by both hands and pulled her down into a chair beside her. Nellie's eyes looked tortured.

'I was just a young woman, not much older than you are now, Carrie,' she began in a broken voice. 'James was a baby at the time an' there was fousands o' men round 'ere out o' work. Yer farvver was gettin' a load of 'ay from the farm when George Galloway called roun' ter see me one mornin'. 'E told me 'e might 'ave ter put yer farvver off 'cos o' the slump. Galloway said 'e wanted me ter know before'and so I could look fer anuvver place ter live. Oh, 'e was very sorry an' full of apologies an' 'e said 'e'd give us a reference ter 'elp us get a place. 'E told me not ter let on fer the time bein' in case fings changed, but it looked very likely if there was no more contracts comin' in the yard.'

'What are yer tellin' me, Mum?' Carrie asked, suddenly feeling sick as the awful truth began to dawn on her.

Nellie tugged at the handkerchief in her hands as she went on: 'I was so terrified we'd get put out on the street I pleaded wiv Galloway not ter let yer farvver go. I broke down and cried, an' 'e put 'is arm aroun' me. Yer gotta understand 'ow desperate I was, child. It was as though I was turned ter stone. I couldn't feel anyfing, an' I didn't try ter stop 'im when 'e got familiar. That mornin' George Galloway got me pregnant. Charlie is George Galloway's son.'

Carrie looked at the floor, feeling sick. She could think of nothing to say. She felt her mother's pleading gaze on her.

'Don't 'ate me, Carrie,' Nellie said, bursting into tears. 'Don't 'ate me.'

Carrie's eyes misted and she hugged her mother tightly. 'I don't 'ate yer, Mum,' she said gently. 'It ain't your fault.'

Nellie sobbed loudly. 'Charlie told me 'e'd asked Josephine ter marry 'im,' she spluttered. 'The poor child must 'ave found out when she asked 'er farvver fer 'is permission. It come out at the inquest that she was very drunk. She must've done 'erself in.'

'Yer mustn't blame yerself, Mum,' Carrie implored her. 'We'll never know what really 'appened ter Josephine. An' if anyone's ter blame,' she added fiercely, 'it's that evil stinking b.a.s.t.a.r.d Galloway, not you.'

Nellie dabbed at her eyes. 'I've carried this cross all these years fer yer farvver's sake,' she sobbed. ''E's a lovely man an' I could never bring meself ter tell 'im.'

'Ain't Galloway ever shown any remorse fer what 'e done?' Carrie asked angrily.

Nellie nodded. ''E offered me money but I refused. We've always 'ad ter sc.r.a.pe an' scheme ter live, an' yer farvver would 'ave found out if I suddenly 'ad extra money ter play wiv. Besides, I'd 'ave felt like a common wh.o.r.e takin' Galloway's money. Yer farvver mus' never know,' she pleaded. 'Promise me, Carrie. It'd kill 'im, the way 'e is.'

Carrie felt herself breaking into sobs as she hugged her mother and kissed her forehead. 'Don't worry, Mum,' she said as tears ran down her cheeks. 'I won't tell Dad.'

Chapter Forty-three.

On the last Sat.u.r.day evening in January the Page Street women together with Nellie and Carrie all marched up to the Crown public house at Dockhead.

Sadie grabbed the arm of an elderly man who was going in the pub and said, 'Oi, you, tell the guv'nor 'e's wanted outside.'

The startled man nodded and hurried into the bar. Soon Don McBain came out and faced the determined women. 'Sorry, ladies, it's fer men only,' he smiled. 'Get yer men ter place yer bets fer yer.'

Florrie put her hands on her hips and glared at the publican. 'It's 'er boy who's fightin',' she told him, nodding her head towards Nellie. 'We're gonna cheer 'im on so yer'd better let us in.'

McBain shook his head. 'Sorry, gels, I can't,' he replied, turning on his heel.

Sadie grabbed him by the arm. 'Now listen 'ere, you,' she growled. 'We know the brewery don't know about these fights yer put on, an' nor do the coppers, but they soon will if yer don't let us in. We might even tell the local papers as well. I should fink they'd be interested, wouldn't you, Flo?'

Florrie nodded her head vigorously. 'That's fer sure.'

McBain sighed in resignation. 'All right, go through the back door,' he said wearily, 'but no screamin' an' 'ollerin', an' keep yer traps shut, all right?'

Meanwhile in the bar Soapy Symonds and Sharkey Morris were standing close to a few of the bookies' runners and chatting noisily.

''Ow the b.l.o.o.d.y 'ell is the boy expected ter do any good when 'e's only got one good eye?' Soapy puffed. 'It ain't as though 'e's up against any ole fighter. That Jake Mitch.e.l.l's an experienced bloke, an' jus' look at 'is record. Nah, I can't see the boy lastin' two rounds wiv 'im.'

'Wa.s.sa matter wiv 'is eye then?' Sharkey asked in a loud voice.

'Well, accordin' ter Florrie the boy got ga.s.sed in France,' Soapy replied, sipping his beer and glancing quickly around the bar. ''E was blinded fer a time, by all accounts. 'Is left eye's ruined. Mustard gas ruins yer eyes, yer know. Florrie said Danny's muvver told 'er about 'im bein' 'alf blind. Yer know what a nosy ole cow Florrie is. She gets ter 'ear about everyfing.'

'Well, I'm glad yer told me,' Sharkey said, banging down his empty gla.s.s on the table. 'I fink I'll save me money.'

'Anuvver fing, that gas affects yer chest,' Soapy went on. 'Florrie reckons the boy should never be in the ring, what wiv 'is coughin' an' wheezin'.'

Florrie's plan to raise the stakes in their favour had been executed to perfection. Now all that remained was for the bets to be placed.

The women filed into the large marquee and took their places on the wooden benches. Nellie felt her heart beating faster and bit on her bottom lip as she gazed at the roped arena. She could picture Danny lying there, cut and battered, with anxious people bending over him. She squeezed her daughter's hand in hers. 'Can yer see yer farvver?'

Carrie looked around and pointed. 'There 'e is, Mum. 'E's sittin' next ter Joe Maitland.'

Nellie tried to stay calm as the master of ceremonies ducked under the ropes. She glanced across at the anxious face of her husband and he waved over to her rea.s.suringly.

Florrie meanwhile had been placing the bets and she was looking very smug as she rejoined her friends. 'Five ter one we got. That ugly git Mitch.e.l.l is odds-on,' she grinned.

'What's odds-on mean?' Ida asked.

'It means it ain't werf wastin' yer stakes,' Florrie replied, still grinning widely.

Danny Tanner was announced to the spectators and as he strode behind Billy Sullivan towards the ring the Page Street women cheered loudly, ignoring the cat-calls and cries of derision from Mitch.e.l.l's supporters. Danny ducked under the ropes and stood quietly banging his fists together beneath the overcoat which was draped over his shoulders. Jake Mitch.e.l.l's entry was greeted with loud cheers from his cohort of fans. When he slipped off his wrap and walked into the centre of the ring to get his instructions from the referee, Nellie winced and turned to Carrie.

'Jus' look at the difference in size,' she groaned. 'That Mitch.e.l.l looks twice as big as Danny.'

Carrie squeezed her mother's arm. 'Danny can look after 'imself, Ma,' she said, trying to sound confident. 'Besides Billy's bin 'elpin 'im. 'E'll be all right, yer'll see.'

There was a sudden hush as the two contestants walked back to their respective corners, but as soon as the bell sounded a roar went up. Jake Mitch.e.l.l moved towards Danny menacingly and started circling him slowly. His right fist shot out and caught Danny's brow.

'Oi, mind 'is eye!' Mrs Bromsgrove shouted out, but her voice was drowned by the roar of the crowd.

Another right shot out and this time it caught Danny high on his head. Immediately Mitch.e.l.l charged in, sensing he had his man reeling, but a straight left jab full in his face stopped him dead. Danny was moving around now, his body ducking and weaving and his feet shuffling lightly across the canvas-covered floor. Mitch.e.l.l growled and charged in again, hoping to grab his opponent and use his head on Danny's left eye, but as he came on he was rocked by a fusillade of blows. Billy Sullivan was screaming out for Danny to keep moving and the Page Street women were shouting at the tops of their voices. 'Do 'im, Danny! Knock the ugly git out!' Sadie screamed.

Carrie had felt no anxiety as she waited for the fight to begin, only a numbness. She had felt numb inside ever since that terrible day when she discovered her mother's awful secret. Now as Danny punched his fist into Mitch.e.l.l's face, she jerked her shoulders forward as if she were there beside him, urging him on. She felt a cold hatred towards Galloway's champion, as though he were Galloway himself. She did not hear the other voices around her as she rose to her feet with hatred in her eyes, screaming hoa.r.s.ely, 'Kill 'im, Danny! Kill 'im!'

Danny was pummelling Mitch.e.l.l relentlessly with a series of heavy lefts and rights, and only the bell saved the heavier man. He staggered back to his corner and the crowd were quiet. Only the women were laughing and joking with each other.

For the next four rounds Mitch.e.l.l took a terrible beating. Danny was lighter and fitter and he stayed out of reach of Mitch.e.l.l's swinging punches, dancing in to hammer lefts and rights into the carman's bloodied face. The bell sounded for the end of the fifth round and by now most people in the marquee knew that the fight could not go on for much longer. Mitch.e.l.l knew his strength was failing, and glanced over to where his sponsor was sitting. George Galloway sat impa.s.sively beside his son with his hands clasped over the silver k.n.o.b of his walking-stick and did not meet his fighter's eye.

Mitch.e.l.l lasted another two rounds, his face cut and streaked with blood. By now everyone had stopped cheering. Nellie was ashen-faced. She alone had sat silent for the whole fight. She could no longer watch, preferring to gaze at the floor instead. Carrie had slumped back down beside her. Her own hatred had made her feel dirty, and every time Danny landed further blows on his opponent she winced.

Near the end of the eighth round Danny struck Mitch.e.l.l with a wicked right-hand punch high on the head and the carman sagged down on the canvas. With a last supreme effort he rose on shaking legs but a barrage of heavy blows floored him again. This time he was counted out by the referee and dragged back to his stool.

Carrie felt physically sick at the sight of Mitch.e.l.l's face. She looked over to where William was sitting just in time to see him leaving. She had felt her compa.s.sion growing for the beaten fighter, but as she glanced over at Galloway's bowed figure a smile came to her lips.

Danny left the ring to loud acclaim, and when Mitch.e.l.l finally stood up from his stool and was a.s.sisted out of the ring the applause was almost as loud. Everyone present had been moved by the man's courage in holding on for eight rounds against a much fitter and younger opponent. Even the Page Street women were generous to the man they had been ready to hate and stood up to clap him as he walked unsteadily from the marquee. George Galloway had turned his back on Mitch.e.l.l and was talking to his son with a guarded expression on his florid face. Frank looked at him as if surprised and slowly shook his head as they walked slowly out of the marquee.

In a small room at the back of the pub Mitch.e.l.l sat alone, plasters over one eye and across the bridge of his nose. Suddenly the door opened and George Galloway walked in.

''Ow d'yer feel, Jake?' he asked, leaning heavily on his cane.

'I've felt better,' Mitch.e.l.l replied, trying to grin through his swollen lips.

Galloway walked slowly across to a bare wooden table and leaned against it. 'Yer met yer match ternight,' he said without a trace of pity. 'I warned yer, didn't I? I told yer the booze would catch up wiv yer, but yer chose to ignore me. I told yer one day some young striplin' would give yer a good pastin'. I'm only sorry it turned out ter be Tanner.'

Jake Mitch.e.l.l winced as he felt the lump on his cheekbone. 'I'm sorry, Guv', if it cost yer ternight but yer gotta admit yer've done well in the past. I jus' wasn't meself,' he said quickly.

Galloway smiled and looked down at his black patent boots. 'Oh, I didn't lose. My money was on the Tanner boy,' he said with emphasis.

Mitch.e.l.l looked up quickly, his bruised features rigid with shock. 'Yer mean yer backed the ovver bloke?' he asked hoa.r.s.ely.

'That's right, I did,' Galloway replied. 'There was a bit o' rumourmongerin' goin' on an' it looked like somebody was out ter skin the bookies. I've lived round 'ere fer long enough. I know these people. There was a lot o' confidence in the boy, so I placed me money accordingly. I got a good price on Tanner.'

Mitch.e.l.l looked hard at his employer. 'Yer knew that an' yer didn't fink ter warn me?' he snarled. 'Yer let me go in against the boy wivout a word o' warnin'? What sort of a bloke are yer?'

'I'm a businessman,' Galloway replied pointedly. 'I back winners, not losers. It's why I'm where I am terday.'

The beaten fighter slumped back in his chair. 'All right, so I lost ternight. There'll be ovver times,' he said in a low voice.

'Not wiv me there won't,' Galloway said quickly. 'All the young bucks'll be linin' up ter fight yer now, Jake. Take my tip, get yerself a steady job an' ferget the booths an' the pub circuits, or yer quite likely ter end up sellin' papers like 'im up at Dock'ead.'

'Yer mean yer sackin' me?' Mitch.e.l.l said in a shocked voice.

George Galloway straightened and flicked at an imaginary object with his cane. 'That's right. There's two weeks' wages in there,' he said, throwing an envelope on the table. 'There's yer cut o' the purse money in there as well. Do yerself a favour, Jake, an' jack the fightin' in, before yer get 'urt bad.'