Tuppence to Tooley Street by Harry Bowling Read Free Book Online

make yer mind up who you are s’posed ter be takin’ out. I ain’t playin’ second fiddle ter that trollop Janie Arnold.’
    ‘What yer talkin’ about?’ he shouted, his eyes narrowing.
    ‘You know very well,’ she replied. ‘You was seen in The Crown wiv ’er. You was all over the silly cow, so I was told.’
    Danny grabbed Kathy’s arms. ‘Who told yer that?’
    ‘Never mind who told me. But I’m tellin’ yer this–eivver yer stop playin’ around, or me an’ you are finished. I can’t believe yer doin’ this ter me again, Danny. All the time I’ve known yer, yer never change. Yer’ve always bin the same. I’m sick o’ tellin’ yer, an’ sick of ’earin’ what’s goin’ on be’ind me back.’
    ‘Well if yer believe uvver people before me p’raps it’s better if—’
    There was a loud clattering at the end of the turning and as Danny looked up Kathy stiffened and stepped into the open doorway. Charlie Thompson had turned the corner blind drunk and he had staggered into a pile of rubbish. He swore loudly and kicked out at some empty tin cans he had knocked over. Danny knew that Kathy was terrified of her father. She had told him how he often threatened to throw her out of the house, and how he knocked her mother about viciously when he came home drunk. Kathy had backed into the passageway. ‘I’ve gotta go,’ she said. ‘Farver’ll kill me if ’e finds me out ’ere while ’e’s in that state.’
    ‘Wait a minute, Kathy,’ Danny said.
    Charlie Thompson did not appear to have seen them. He reeled across the pavement and leant against the wall. Danny watched in disgust as he bent over and was loudly sick.
    ‘Kathy, wait.’
    ‘I can’t, Danny,’ she sobbed, as she closed the door on him.
    The young cockney stood still for a few moments then walked away in confusion. Charlie Thompson was still leaning against the wall with his head hanging down.
    It was the last time Danny saw Kathy before he went off to war.

Chapter Four
    Danny woke up in panic, his whole body soaked in sweat. He could still hear the Company Sergeant screaming out for everyone to watch their flank. He sat bolt upright in his bed and grasped the iron bedrail with both hands, his breath coming in short pants. Gradually, his pounding heart began to slow down and he was able to recover his breath. He swung his legs over the side of the bed and rested his head in his hands. A beam of morning sunlight lit up the tattered carpet by the side of his bed and felt warm on his bare feet.
    Danny wiped the cold sweat from his face and neck with the sheet and looked around the small room. It hadn’t altered since he was a lad. The old wardrobe in the corner was the one he used to hide in, and the marble-topped washstand with its cracked china bowl and water jug was the same one he used to hide his secret possessions in. The door was always sticking, and it needed to be tapped in a certain place to free it. Danny leaned forward and pulled on the lift-up handle. The door would not budge. From down below came the grinding noise of the wringer being turned and the sound of the wireless set next door blaring out a popular tune.
    Danny looked at the alarm clock which stood on a chair beside the bed–it showed 10.30 a.m. His right leg felt stiff and the puffy scar on his ribs itched. The noise of the wringer ceased and he could hear Connie singing in the yard. Danny got up slowly and peered through the window. His sister was pegging out the washing, her fair hair covered with a headscarf and her feet encased in a pair of carpet slippers; an apron was tied tightly around her trim figure and knotted at the back. Danny stared down into the yard for a few seconds before getting dressed. He felt tired and shaky as he opened the bedroom door and walked out onto the landing between the two flights of stairs.
    The kettle was boiling over as Danny entered the scullery. Connie rushed in from the yard and turned off the gas tap. ‘’Ello,