Tuppence to Tooley Street Read Online Free PDF

both sides of Dawson Street still looked as he had remembered them. The railway arch at the end of the turning had been given a coat of paint, and Granny Bell’s front step gleamed as white as ever. Danny saw the Brightman children swinging around a lamppost on a piece of fraying rope, and ginger-haired Billy, the Birkitts’ youngest, sitting in the gutter slowly counting a pack of cigarette cards. Billy Birkitt stared at Danny with a fixed grin. Danny smiled back, but he did not know that young Billy was only displaying the gap where his two front teeth had been. He spotted Crazy Bella who was standing arms akimbo in her doorway. She gave him a stare and then went in.
    Nothing seemed to have altered in the months he had been away. His own front door was closed; it still had the same cracked knocker-pad and the withered weather-board. Number 26 Dawson Street was like every other house in that tumbledown turning: the windows were clean, the front step was whitened, and the street door sorely needed a lick of paint. Danny stood outside his house for a few seconds before he knocked. Apart from Crazy Bella and the children no one had seen him. He raised the knocker and banged it against the plate. His mother opened the door and stood staring at him.
    ‘’Ello, Mum,’ Danny said. ‘Well ain’t yer gonna let me in?’

Chapter Three
    Alice Sutton looked up at the mantelpiece and noticed that the clock had stopped. She got up and put on her glasses before opening the glass door of the chimer and moving the minute hand around to the half-hour. Still the clock did not start ticking. She fished out a key from beneath the ornate stand and wound up the twin springs. A sharp tilt woke up the pendulum, and the clock started again. Alice could have sworn that she had wound the thing that very morning. It was supposed to be a seven-day timepiece, at least it had been when it was given to her and Frank as a wedding present more than thirty years ago. It’s getting old, like the two of us, Alice thought.
    ‘Good job Dad didn’t see yer do that, Ma,’ Connie laughed. ‘Yer know ’ow ’e fusses over that clock.’
    Alice grinned and sat down amidst her three daughters. Tonight she felt happy and contented. For the first time since last October, when Danny had gone off to France, the family were all together–all except the two grandchildren, who should be in the land of nod by now, she thought. Tomorrow she would be spoiling the kids. Tonight it was the turn of her grown-up children to be fussed over, and she got up again to gather up the tea things.
    ‘Stay put, Mum. I’ll make us a fresh pot,’ Maggie volunteered.
    Connie got up and followed Maggie out into the scullery. The back door was ajar and voices could be heard coming from the small yard, where the men of the family were gathered for a quiet drink.
    Alone in the parlour with Lucy, Alice turned to look at her daughter, eyes filled with concern. Lucy had seemed rather quiet at tea time, she thought. It was a pity, because everything had gone off so well. The large rabbit stew had been ample and the plum duff with treacle was scraped clean from everyone’s plate. The little wooden table looked nice with its linen tablecloth and best dinner plates. She had squeezed seven places around the table, and Connie had helped out by eating her dinner sitting in the armchair. Even Frank looked well scrubbed and sober, although he had stopped off on his way home from work for a couple of pints, as was his usual custom on Friday nights. Alice had noticed that Danny struggled to finish his meal, but she would soon get him used to her big meals again and get some meat on his bones.
    Lucy was staring down at the empty grate and Alice leaned back in her chair and folded her arms. ‘Well, out with it, girl. What’s troublin’ yer?’
    ‘Oh it’s nothing, Mum. Really it’s not.’
    Alice pulled a face. ‘If there is somefink worryin’ yer, I wanna know.’
    Lucy sighed and looked