Lost & Found. Kitty Neale

Chapter Two

      When Mavis had passed her gran’s house in Battersea Church Road, she hadn’t been able to resist popping in. Her reward was a jam sandwich that she munched as she sat by the fire.

      ‘So, you’re out with the pram again?’

      ‘Yes. Mum needs more stock and wants me to try Chelsea.’

      ‘And judging by the look on your face, you ain’t happy about it.’

      ‘I’d rather go to school.’

      ‘Blame your dad. If he didn’t blow all his money on gambling, she wouldn’t have to flog her guts out. The least you can do is give her a hand.’

      ‘I know,’ Mavis placated, aware that Gran despised her dad, and though Mavis sort of understood why, she couldn’t feel the same. She loved her dad, but just wished she saw more of him. Maybe he wouldn’t go to the dogs tonight, or the pub. Maybe for once he’d come home.

      ‘Instead of that good-for-nothing, I wish my Lily had met and married a decent man.’

      Now that Gran had started, Mavis knew there’d be no stopping her. She swiftly finished her sandwich and stood up saying, ‘That was lovely, Gran, but I’d better go.’

      Her gran struggled to her feet, swaying a little, prompting Mavis to ask, ‘Are you all right?’

      ‘Yes, I’m fine. You’re getting as bad as your mother, fussing over me all the time, but as I told her yesterday, I’m as fit as a flea.’

      Mavis doubted this was true. Her gran had once been chubby and red-cheeked, but for the past six months the weight had been dropping off her. She was sixty-one, her hair speckled with grey and her skin pasty. ‘Gran, you’re looking really thin. Have you been to the doctor’s yet?’

      ‘No, and I don’t intend to either. There’s nothing wrong with losing a bit of weight. Now go on, bugger off and leave me in peace.’

      The sting was taken out of this comment by a swift hug and a kiss on the cheek, which Mavis returned before asking, ‘Do you need anything from the shops?’

      ‘If you pass the pie and mash shop on your way home, I wouldn’t say no to a portion of jellied eels. Hang on, I’ll just get me purse.’

      With the money in her pocket, Mavis waved goodbye, still worried about her gran as she pushed the pram along. Unlike her mother, Granny Doris wasn’t slow in showing affection. Mavis knew she was stupid, useless, fit for nothing as her mother always said, but her gran made her feel loved. Gran would listen when she talked, whereas her mother had no patience, telling her to shut up nearly every time she opened her mouth. Mavis knew she’d be lost without her gran, and was frightened that she really was ill; tears now flooded her eyes as she turned the corner.

      ‘Be careful, girl.’

      ‘I … I’m sorry, Mrs Pugh,’ Mavis stammered as she hastily veered to one side.

      ‘You nearly barged into me. Where are you off to? It’s Monday morning and surely you should be on your way to school?’

      ‘My … my mum needs more stock.’

      Edith Pugh’s neck stretched with indignation. ‘Don’t your parents realise how important your education is? My son is twenty-two now, but when he was at school I made sure he never missed a day. Now look at him. Alec works in an office and is doing really well. You’ll learn nothing trawling the streets. As I’m going past your house, I think I’ll have a word with your mother.’

      ‘Oh, no, please, don’t do that! I leave school at Easter and … and it’s not as if a day off will make much difference.’

      The woman’s face softened imperceptibly, her tone a little kinder. ‘No, I suppose not, but despite your difficulties I’m sure you’re bright. I think you just need a bit of extra help and it’s a shame you aren’t getting it.’

      Once again Mavis felt her cheeks burning. Until last year, Mrs Pugh had been the school secretary and she hated it that the woman knew of her failings. Anxious to get away, she stuttered, ‘I … I think my English teacher has given up on me.’

      ‘What about your parents? Have they tried to help you?’

      ‘Er … yes,’ Mavis lied, and to avoid any more questions, she added, ‘I really must go now.’

      ‘Very well, but watch where you’re going with that pram. You nearly had me off my feet.’

      With this curt comment Mrs Pugh walked away, her back bent and walking stick tapping the pavement, and Mavis too resumed her journey. She had always been in awe of Edith Pugh, and on their previous encounters when the woman had worked at her school, Mavis found her changing personality bewildering. She could be very strict, blunt, and opinionated, yet there’d been times when she’d shown kindness when questioning her absenteeism. Edith Pugh and her son lived in Ellington Avenue, only a ten-minute walk from her own home in Cullen Street, but the difference between the two was stark. Ellington Avenue was tree lined, with bay-fronted houses that had gardens back and front. In complete contrast, the houses in Cullen Street were flat-fronted, two-up-two-down terraces, with just small, concrete backyards. There were no trees, and the only view was of the dismal houses opposite.

      Mavis had been out so many times with the pram that she knew every road, lane, street and avenue in the whole area, but Ellington Avenue was one of her favourites, especially in May when the trees bloomed with froths of pink and white blossom.

      At last Mavis reached Battersea Bridge, the river grey and sluggish, and the wind stinging her cheeks as she walked to the other side. On Cheyne Walk now, she hesitated while deciding which direction to take. She could try the houses facing the embankment, or those along Beaufort Street. Mavis crossed the road and turned left, a different route from her last forage. She was immune now to the looks of pity or disdain from people she passed; her one hope was that it wouldn’t take all day to fill the pram.

      Edith Pugh was deep in thought. Despite the girl’s inability to read and write, she was sure that Mavis Jackson was bright, and not only that, the girl was pretty. Yes, but was Mavis malleable? There was only one way she could think of to find out and now, raising the handle of her cane, Edith rapped loudly on the door. Despite the pain, she managed to keep her back straight and her head high when it was opened.

      ‘Blimey, Edith Pugh. And to what do I owe this honour?’

      Edith hid her feelings of disdain as she looked at Mavis’s mother. Despite being pretty, with a good figure, the woman looked a mess, her peroxide blonde hair resembling straw and her clothes totally unsuitable for a woman in her mid thirties. Edith knew her own hair was mousy brown, but she kept it immaculately permed, and made sure she always looked smart, her clothes nicely tailored. Forcing a smile, she said, ‘I’d like a word with you about your daughter.’

      ‘Why? What’s she been up to?’

      ‘Nothing, other than the fact that Mavis isn’t in school—but as she’s leaving soon I think it’s time you thought about her future.’

      Lily’s head reared with indignation. ‘Now listen, lady, you may have been the school secretary but that doesn’t give you the right to tell me what to do about my daughter.’

      ‘No, I’m not trying to do that,’ Edith said hastily. She hated that she had to affect an air of humility but nevertheless forced her tone to sound contrite. ‘Oh, dear, I’m so sorry, we seem to have got off on the wrong foot. You see, I came to see you about offering Mavis a job.’

      ‘A job? What sort of job?’

      ‘I’d rather not discuss it on the doorstep. May I come in?’

      ‘Yeah, I suppose so,’ Lily said, ‘but you’ll have to excuse the mess.’

      Edith was unable to help her eyebrows rising as she went inside. The room was indeed a mess, with piles