‘You could go try in the factory that makes toys,’ she suggested to Sophy, but not very enthusiastically.
‘Connie reckons that’s what sent her sister Louisa so nutty. It were three years ago but she’s never been the same since, Connie says.’
‘Louisa’s always been a mad cow.’ Alice chuckled. ‘Anyhow you don’t want to go talking to Connie now she’s seeing that copper. Mum’ll go mad if she thinks you’ve been telling her anything. She calls her the copper’s nark.’
‘Haven’t told Connie nuthin’. Hardly ever talk to her. She thinks she’s something, she does, now she’s moved in with his family.’
‘They sound horrible anyhow,’ Alice said, wrinkling her nose. ‘Connie told Sarah his mum’s stuck up and calls her common as muck. His dad keeps touching Connie up.’ Alice looked thoughtful. ‘I don’t suppose she’ll decide to come back here though.’
After they’d walked a distance in silence Alice shot a shrewd look at Sophy. ‘Is that all Mum wanted with you? To talk about getting work?’
Sophy pursed her lips before starting to chew at the lower. ‘Wanted to know about me ‘n’ Danny being sweet on each other . . . you know . . . about us kissing ‘n’ so on. She’s guessed me monthlies are late.’
Alice felt a hard lump jump to her throat. Sophy had already confided that to her but had said there was nothing to worry about because she’d been late before and in the end it came alright. But if Sophy had done something really silly, like dropping her drawers for Danny and going all the way, Alice didn’t even want to consider what the outcome of that might be.
When Tommy Greenfield had got Maisie Brookes in the family way all hell had broken loose. The Brookeses and Greenfields had been fighting in the streets every other day for ages. Then Maisie’s mum got what she wanted out of the Greenfields. She got some money and took Maisie to see someone in King’s Cross and when they got back Maisie wasn’t expecting any more.
‘D’you ever find out what happened to Maisie when she got pregnant?’ Alice slid a fearful look at Sophy.
‘Her mum took her to some sort of doctor down in King’s Cross.’ Sophy pulled a face. ‘He stuck something like a skewer inside her ter get rid of the baby and it all came out in sort of big bits of liver. That’s what I heard anyhow.’
‘Must’ve hurt terrible,’ Alice whispered with a shudder. She’d guessed it had been something awful because Maisie had looked like death warmed up for ages afterwards.
Sophy sensed Alice’s frightened eyes on her. ‘’S’alright,’ she reassured her but with a smile that wobbled on her lips. ‘We always do it standin’ up. Danny said you can’t ever get pregnant like that.’
‘You sure about it?’
Sophy nodded miserably, her eyes darting about as though she feared they were being watched. But at the moment the Fonthill Mews, where she and Danny had stationed themselves to talk in private, seemed to be quiet enough. ‘Sure as I can be. I know me aunt Fran was being sick when she was first expecting though she’s alright now she’s big as a house. Her baby’s due in a couple of months, me mum says.’
‘Can’t see nuthin’.’ Danny eyed Sophy’s belly. ‘Just ’cos you’ve been sick a few times don’t mean yer in the family way.’ He sounded desperate to believe his own reassurance and he scraped the fingers of one hand agitatedly through his hair.
‘’S’not just that. Me monthlies haven’t come for ages . . . must be almost three months now.’
‘Can’t be,’ Danny said then followed it up with, ‘Shit!’ He looked bleakly at Sophy. ‘Ain’t getting trapped in to stayin’ round here,’ he warned her through gritted teeth. ‘Ain’t ending up in some poxy room in a dump like this with no money and whining kids. Already got that back there and it’s driving me nuts.’ He jerked his head towards Campbell Road.
He raised a hand to touch Sophy’s face as he watched her lower lip wobble. ‘Love you, Sophy, honest I do, but we can’t get tied down yet or we’ll have nuthin’, just like the rest o’ the sad gits here. Be trapped in The Bunk forever, we will, if we can’t get decent jobs and get a few bob behind us before we get wed.’
Sophy nodded and bit her lip. She knew Danny was right, but she knew too she was pregnant. She felt different, she was getting fat, so a baby must be growing inside her.
It was mid December and many weeks had passed since her mother had interrogated her that morning and made her late for school. Tilly had managed to wangle her a good job at the Star Brush factory because she’d called in a favour from Kitty Drew, one of the supervisors. Sophy was only making tea and doing a few odd jobs but she liked it and the wages at eleven shillings were better than she’d expected to start off with. Not that she got to keep much of it. Her mother soon had her pay packet off her on a Friday and woe betide if she tried to slip a bit out before handing it over. Sophy knew that to lose such a good job would be a disaster. She knew she would lose it if she were pregnant. She glanced at Danny; he was still staring at her, white-faced and frowning, as though he was desperately trying to think of a reason why she might be wrong.
‘Can’t you do something?’ Danny burst out and then relief lifted his countenance. ‘You’re supposed to drink gin, or something like that,’ he rattled off. ‘I remember now when one of me friend’s brothers got a girl knocked up he got her a bottle o’ gin.’
‘Did it work?’ Sophy asked, brightening a little.
‘Dunno . . . we’re here now, ain’t we, not in Essex. It don’t notice,’ Danny added quickly as Sophy looked as though she might burst in to tears. ‘You can get rid of it before anyone knows . . . only us’ll ever know.’
‘Me mum’s gonna kill me if she finds out.’ Sophy snuffled on her sleeve.
‘I’ll get you a bottle of gin soon as I can,’ Danny promised. He leaned forward and pecked at her lips.
‘Gedoff!’ Sophy shoved him away. ‘’S’how I got in trouble.’ She pushed him more purposefully as he persevered in trying to kiss her. ‘Got to get back to work anyhow. Me dinnertime’s over.’ They walked to the end of the Fonthill Mews. ‘You’d best get me that gin then,’ Sophy ordered grumpily before they turned in opposite directions.
‘Fuckin’ fine New Year this is goin’ to be.’ Tilly’s shrieked exclamation reverberated about the room. It had been loud enough for every person in the tenement house to know something bad had happened to the Keivers.
Sophy cuffed her wet face and tried to escape her mother’s swinging fist by dodging behind her father.
‘Get off her and calm yourself down,’ Jack bawled at his wife as Tilly lunged at Sophy again. He grabbed at Tilly and, planting his palms on her shoulders, shoved her down on the edge of the bed.
Sophy was sobbing quietly, one of her palms fastened to a cheek reddened from her mother’s hefty blow.
‘You stupid little cow,’ Tilly spat between her thin lips. ‘I warned you . . . I warned you what’d happen if you let him . . .’
‘Shut up,’ Jack snarled at her. He might have seemed more in control of his temper than his wife but he was equally shocked and angry. ‘If I’m going to cause a war . . . and it will be a hell of a war,’ he stressed to his oldest daughter, ‘I need to know I’m doing it for a real reason.’ A paternal eye examined Sophy’s body. He noticed the thickening about her usually skinny hips and the buttons stretched across her bosom. ‘You sure, Sophy?’ he asked unnecessarily; his eyes had told him the awful truth.
‘She’s just been sick again,’ Tilly pointed out, kicking at the bowl on the floor that held the vomit and sending it over. ‘That’s the third time this week. She’s missed three monthlies. What more proof d’yer need that she’s knocked up?’
Jack