Tiger Ragtime Page 8

  ‘I’ll do my own recruiting,’ he broke in. ‘I’ll employ hostesses and cigarette girls but I’ve no intention of setting up in competition with you. I’ll have enough sweeteners to pay without bribing the coppers to look the other way every time a tart tries to pick up a customer. If my chorus girls want to make a bit on the side, that’s between them and the punters. I don’t mind them socialising, anything more will have to be off the premises. The real money is in gambling. The bar should bring in a bit but I’ll be lucky if the shows break even.’

  ‘You’re a pessimist.’

  ‘I’m a realist. This won’t be the first club I’ve owned.’

  ‘So, what will go on upstairs?’ she questioned curiously.

  He walked to the window and looked down on Stuart Street two floors below. ‘As I said, the occasional strictly invitation-only private party for privileged customers.’

  ‘And nothing else?’

  ‘No, so you can stop feeling under the pillow for things that aren’t there, Anna.’

  ‘You’re not looking to put my house out of business?’

  He turned and smiled at her. ‘You always were suspicious, Anna.’

  ‘Can you blame me?’

  ‘We’re after different markets, you and I. Keep your sailors and clerks. I’m after the big money. And the parties will be occasional. Very occasional.’ He returned to the drinks table and refilled her glass. ‘You said you were semi-retired apart from carnival and holidays.’

  ‘And my regulars. I am.’

  ‘I’ll pay you twenty quid a time to hostess them.’

  ‘What!’ She dropped her glass. ‘Bugger it!’ She jumped up and tried to dry the stain she had made on the plush upholstery with her handkerchief.

  ‘Leave it. I’ll call housekeeping, they’ll see to it.’

  ‘You did say twenty quid?’

  ‘To look after the customers, deal with any difficult clients and make sure there’s no trouble.’

  ‘In my experience if a customer is hell bent on making trouble no one can stop him.’

  ‘You’ve met Aiden and Freddie.’

  ‘They can’t be everywhere. You’ll need them in the casino.’

  ‘How many unemployed Freddies and Aidens are there on the Bay who’d be prepared to work for me for a tenner a week?’

  ‘For a snotty-nosed kid who sailed out of here with nothing more than the clothes on his back, you’ve some big ideas, Aled.’

  ‘Here’s to bigger ones, Anna.’ He touched her glass to his. ‘One more thing, what do you know about Geoff Arnold?’

  ‘He used to be a bank clerk, but like you he had big ideas. He scraped together enough money to buy a house in Loudoun Square that he let out in rooms, then another and another. Apparently he owns a dozen or more now. He left the bank years ago and set himself up as an estate agent in an office in Bute Street. But he lives somewhere posh, Rhiwbina way I think. Butetown wasn’t grand enough for his wife and daughters once he’d made a bit of money.’

  ‘I’m sure I’ve seen him before,’ Aled mused.

  ‘You have. He used to be one of your mother’s regulars.’

  ‘So that’s why I didn’t like him.’

  ‘He used to give her five bob on the nail every Friday. It was half the rent on her room. She couldn’t afford to turn it down.’

  ‘That’s our dinner,’ he said in relief at a knock on the door. He had several years’ worth of memories of his mother and none he wanted to revisit.

  ‘I hope you’ve ordered the most expensive dinner on the menu,’ she joked.

  ‘What else would I order for you, Anna?’ he said seriously.

  David was surprised by how ordinary Jed King’s house was. He’d expected something more exotic given the King family’s West Indian blood. Also, he didn’t have that much to compare Jed’s house to.

  Although he’d delivered his family’s farm produce to shops in the Swansea Valley before Harry had married his sister, he hadn’t visited many private houses aside from the few farmhouses around them, and they had all been similar to his own. The comparative luxury of Harry’s parents’ home in Pontypridd with its thick carpets, soft upholstered furniture, bathrooms, indoor toilets, running hot and cold water and electric lighting in every room had come as a culture shock before Harry had introduced similar luxuries into the farmhouse.

  Jed’s back kitchen was a quarter of the size of the one at the farm. The range that dominated one wall was doll­ like in comparison to the massive one Mary used. But although the furniture was on a smaller scale than the pieces he was used to, they served the same purpose.

  There was a Welsh dresser filled with everyday blue and white china. Two easy chairs were set either side of the range, and a scrub-down table flanked by benches, which took up less room than chairs, filled the centre of the kitchen. Waist-high cupboards had been built into the alcoves either side of the chimney breast. A marble­topped iron stand stood below the window that overlooked the yard. On it was an enamel water jug and basin.

  There were a few ornaments. A framed embroidered picture of a country cottage hung on one wall, a mirror on another and neat rows of books had been arranged on top of the alcove cupboards. A green pressed-glass vase filled with the large white flowers Mary called dog daisies stood in the centre of the table. A bewildering number of chattering children sat on the benches, the older ones reading, the younger ones drawing pictures in charcoal on brown paper bags.

  Given the King family’s dark skins, David was amazed to hear all of them speaking English with pronounced Welsh accents. There were no ‘foreigners’ living in the Swansea Valley or on the hills between the valley and Brecon town. And, unlike the Ellises, most of the people also spoke Welsh as a first language. The occasional English person he had met while visiting the cattle markets in Brecon and Pontardawe had seemed positively alien. As a result, he found the variety of races, languages, skin colours, and music in Tiger Bay overwhelming.

  Harry had brought recordings of Negro jazz music home that David had admired and listened to, time and again. And, as he could neither read music nor play an instrument, he believed that all musicians, even Judy whom he knew reasonably well, possessed some kind of magical quality. To him, musicians existed in some world other than the mundane one he inhabited. Yet Jed seemed to live no different a life in his kitchen to the one he’d lived with Harry, Mary, his sister and brothers in his farm­house. Apart from maybe the food. There was an appetising smell of unusual cooking in the air, which he put down to mysterious rare ingredients.

  ‘Sit down, David.’ Jed pointed to the easy chair opposite his own.

  ‘Thank you.’ David took it while Judy and her aunt gathered the children and herded them next door to Tony King’s house.

  ‘Judy tells me you want to go to sea.’ Jed pulled an empty pipe from his pocket and stared thoughtfully at it.

  ‘I do,’ David confirmed.

  ‘Why?’

  The question took David by surprise. He hadn’t expected anyone to query his motives. ‘Because I want to see more of the world than I can from my farmhouse windows.’

  ‘And you think you’ll see more of the world on board ship?’

  ‘Of course,’ David answered. ‘I’ve always wanted to travel out of Wales, and visit different countries.’

  ‘Go to sea and ninety-nine days out of a hundred you’re not likely to see more than the water that surrounds the ship.’

  ‘But ships land –’

  ‘In ports,’ Jed broke in. ‘They discharge their cargoes and take on new ones. And during that time you’ll be expected to help with the ship’s maintenance that can’t be done at sea, as well as supervise the stowing of the cargo. You’ll be lucky if you’re given a couple of hours to go ashore to get drunk in a dockside pub. Unless, of course, you decide to leave the ship and look for a berth out of wherever you are, on another vessel. In which case you’d better pray you strike lucky before your money runs out. Not all ports have seamen’s mi
ssions or doss houses that dole out meals to the destitute.’

  ‘I see.’ David cleared his throat.

  ‘Not what you expected?’ Jed asked.

  ‘Judy told me that shipping trade was down.’

  ‘I don’t know about down, it’s practically non-existent. And it’s hard to get a berth since they made us all register. You’ll actually be better off than me, because white British sailors get first chance of any jobs that are going, coloured British sailors second, although they’ve made everyone with coloured blood register as an alien irrespective of where they were born, and foreigners last.’

  ‘That’s hardly fair –’

  Jed interrupted him. ‘Go to sea, boy, and you’ll find out that fair isn’t a word that’s understood any better on board ship than it is on land.’ He replaced his pipe in his shirt pocket. ‘Still want to go to sea?’

  ‘Yes,’ David replied stoutly, too proud to back down.

  ‘Come here at five o’clock tomorrow morning. That too early for you?’

  ‘We get up earlier on the farm.’

  ‘I’ll take you to Penniless Point. If any ships’ masters are looking for crew, they’ll go to the Cory’s building first. But I warn you, the only work that’s been on offer for the last six months is with the Irish shipping lines. Take coal out, bring potatoes in, which amounts to four or five days’ work at most, and without experience all you’ll get is your food and not much of that. But you’ll earn your ticket.’

  ‘That’s what I want.’

  ‘You won’t be classed higher than cabin boy, not without experience. And the Irish Sea can be rough, even in summer. Ever been seasick?’

  ‘No,’ David retorted swiftly.

  ‘Ever been to sea?’

  ‘Once.’

  ‘Where?’

  ‘On a ship from Swansea, around the Gower.’

  Jed laughed. ‘A pleasure cruise.’ He shook his head. ‘You’ll be letting yourself in for a bit more than pleasure on board a ship bound for Ireland, boy. But first you have to find someone who’s prepared to take you. And if you do, you’ll find out what going to sea means for yourself.’

  ‘That’s all I want, Mr King,’ David said soberly.

  Jed laughed. ‘You’ve guts, boy, I’ll give you that much. But I’m not sure how far someone can travel on guts alone.’

  Chapter Five

  ‘Do you have to go now, right this minute?’ Micah lay back on the make-shift bed in the cabin of the Escape and watched Edyth hook the welts of her stockings on to her suspender belt.

  ‘It’s six o’clock. By the time I get back to the shop, make tea for Judy and me – and you, if you’d like to stay – and clear up the last of the carnival debris, it will be bedtime.’

  ‘I suppose that’s a hint for me to move.’ Micah rolled over and leaned on his elbow.

  ‘Only if you want to walk me back to Bute Street.’

  ‘I wish I could stay the night with you in your bed –’

  ‘Stop right there.’ Edyth took her comb and lipstick from her handbag. ‘You promised earlier that you wouldn’t bring up that subject again until I was free.’

  ‘Sometimes I think you don’t want Peter to send those annulment papers.’

  ‘You promised.’

  ‘I did, didn’t I?’ He reluctantly sat up. ‘Will you be able to get away early any night this week?’

  She threw his vest and shirt to him. ‘Most nights, I should think. I’ve nothing special on. But Judy has an audition tomorrow.’

  ‘That’s strange; she hasn’t mentioned it to me – or her uncles, that I know about. Is it in London?’ he asked hopefully.

  ‘The New Theatre.’

  ‘That explains why she hasn’t said anything. She’s had six call-backs for auditions there in the last three months and none have resulted in an engagement.’

  ‘Let’s hope this one will be different. Although I’m worried. I know it’s selfish of me to want to keep Judy working in the bakery when she’s so talented, but frankly I wouldn’t have been able to manage without her the last six months. I dread the thought of trying to replace her.’

  ‘The selfish works both ways. If you hadn’t offered Judy a job and a place to live she would have had to move away to London where there are live-in service jobs even for coloured girls.’ He finished buttoning his shirt and picked up his sock suspenders. ‘As for replacing her, you’ll have plenty of girls to choose from.’

  ‘But they won’t be Judy.’

  ‘If she’s in the New Theatre, she can carry on living with you, so you’ll still see her, unless you need her room for someone else.’

  ‘With four bedrooms above the shop, she’s more than welcome to stay.’ She watched him pull on his trousers and clip on his braces. ‘Come on, slowcoach, I thought it was women who were supposed to spend a long time dressing.’

  ‘Nagging me before we’re even married,’ he teased.

  ‘I’ll ignore that remark.’

  ‘If Judy does get that job in the New Theatre there’s no guarantee it will last more than a couple of weeks.’ He picked up the rest of his clothes. ‘Then she’ll be back to auditions again.’

  ‘I know.’

  ‘If it’s a temporary worker you need, you could do worse than ask one of her uncles to cover for her. I know all three are finding it hard to make ends meet at the moment.’

  ‘I can’t afford to pay anyone more than I’m paying Judy now,’ she warned.

  ‘A pittance is better than nothing. And the way this slump is beginning to bite, you could pay people in bread.’

  She looked him in the eye. ‘Has Moody told you that I’ve had to cut back on production?’

  ‘He didn’t have to.’ He finished lacing his shoes and rose to his feet. ‘I walk around the Bay. I see the women shopping, and the men hanging around street corners. And I’ve not heard the sound of any spare coins jangling lately.’ He lifted the cushions back to the sides of the boat and heaved the table between them. ‘How much have you had to cut back?’

  ‘Ten per cent on bread, forty on cakes and biscuits.’

  ‘Can the bakery survive a lower turnover?’ He flicked a comb through his hair, and dropped his boater on his head.

  ‘Just about.’

  ‘You are managing?’ he asked seriously.

  ‘For now. It’s not just me; all the shopkeepers in Bute Street are complaining that trade’s down.’

  He slipped his arms around her shoulders. ‘You will tell me if you need help?’

  ‘What would you do?’ she asked. ‘Order all the Norwegian sailors who visit your mission to buy their bread from me when you deliver your Sunday sermon?’

  ‘I have a little money saved …’

  ‘I don’t know much about accounting but I do know that you’ll lose money if you try to prop up a business that has more going out than coming in. Things aren’t that bad, Micah – yet,’ she qualified. ‘Hopefully the ships will start sailing again soon and then trade is bound to pick up.’

  He decided not to tell her that all the shipping agents and bankers he had spoken to in the past few weeks were predicting the opposite. ‘What time is Judy’s audition tomorrow?’

  ‘Four o’clock. Want to come round for tea about five?’

  ‘As she’s only in the New Theatre, I’d prefer a picnic here. Less likelihood of being disturbed. Then I’ll walk you home and Judy can tell us whether or not she’s been successful.’

  ‘In that case I’ll make a special supper for the three of us and we can offer Judy our congratulations or sympathies, whichever is appropriate.’

  ‘Sounds perfect. I’ll even call in and walk you down here.’ He dropped a kiss on her forehead before opening the door of the cabin.

  ‘So you’re going to Penniless Point with Uncle Jed tomorrow?’ Judy said to David when he escorted her back to Edyth’s bakery. She had wanted to walk back alone, but over protective as always, her uncle had insisted that someone take her and as David was anxi
ous to see Edyth, he was the obvious choice.

  ‘He seems to think I’ll get a job.’

  ‘Not a paying one.’ She reinforced Jed’s warning.

  ‘My keep would be a start and I can work up from there.’

  ‘Like my uncles?’ She couldn’t resist reminding him that they were out of work.

  ‘It’s different for them.’

  ‘Because they’re coloured.’

  ‘Jed told me about having to register as aliens although they were born on the Bay. But I didn’t mean that,’ he said swiftly. ‘They have families to support; I have only myself to look after so I don’t need as much money.’ He stopped in front of the baker’s shop.

  ‘We use the back door when the shop’s not open.’ Judy led the way around to the yard. Edyth and Micah were standing, locked in one another’s arms, oblivious to everything outside of one another.

  David cried out.

  Judy turned and saw a look of pure anguish on his face before he raced back down the alley into Bute Street.

  When Edyth heard David cry out, she turned and saw him and Judy standing at the entrance to the yard. She pushed Micah away and tried to follow David when he ran off but Micah held her fast. She fought to free herself.

  ‘Let me go,’ she shouted.

  ‘If anyone should go after him, it should be me.’

  ‘You don’t understand,’ Edyth continued to struggle.

  ‘Your brother telephoned after you left, Edyth,’ Judy explained. ‘He asked me to pick David up at the station. He wants to be a sailor.’ After the way David had snapped at her since he’d arrived, Judy wasn’t sure whether to go after him or not.

  ‘David doesn’t want to be a sailor.’ Edyth finally wrenched free from Micah’s grip. ‘He’s in the Bay because of me.’

  ‘He’s staying with Helga.’ Judy dashed after Edyth when she darted into the street but Micah was quicker. He reached Bute Street before Judy. Edyth was standing on the pavement looking up and down the road. A tram hurtled around the corner and passed a procession of white-garbed Sunday school children from the Catholic Church. A donkey cart loaded with fresh fish meandered slowly up from the direction of the docks. Several groups of people stood gossiping but there was no sign of David.