Coronation Day. Kay Brellend
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Название: Coronation Day
Автор: Kay Brellend
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Историческая литература
isbn: 9780007481460
isbn:
‘He was only about ten years older’n me.’ Stephen produced a packet of Weights and immediately took one out then threw the packet for Christopher to catch it.
‘Makes yer think, don’t it. Me dad’s comin’ up to sixty-five …’ Vic sat on the floor next to Stephen and got out his own cigarettes.
Bill squatted down too and fished in Vic’s packet of Weights when it was offered, then lobbed it towards Ted.
As a melancholy silence descended on the room Christopher drew smoke deep into his lungs then rested his head in his cupped hands.
‘Can’t believe it, y’know …’ The woman’s voice had come from the doorway and jerked them all to attention. ‘He was only fifty-six. Weren’t an old man at all, was he?’
‘Were a sick man though, Aunt Tilly, weren’t he,’ Christopher said. ‘S’pose we all knew fer a while it might be coming.’ He stood up. ‘Any more news come over on the wireless? Was it a heart attack took him in the end?’
Matilda came gingerly further into the debris-strewn property. ‘Don’t know … not said.’ She shook her grey head, her wrinkled complexion creasing in a frown. She was seventy-one years old yet, considering what she’d been through in her life, in robust condition. ‘BBC has cancelled all the programmes. Just gonna be sad music and news broadcasts. Bound to come out later today what caused it.’
‘Won’t get nuthin’ done now. Everything’ll be closing up out o’ respect.’ Billy nodded sombrely.
‘Right ’n’ all!’ Stephen said forcefully, shoving himself to his feet. ‘Ain’t a man anywhere deservin’ of more respect than him.’
‘We off home then?’ Ted asked optimistically.
‘Yeah, go on, get going,’ Stephen said. There was plenty of work left to do, and a good few hours in which to do it, but nobody had the heart now to get stuck in.
‘Bet them Irish bastards don’t show a bit o’ respect and knock off early,’ Vic said. He unhooked his jacket from the back of the door and shrugged it on over his overalls.
‘Most Paddies can’t stand the English at the best of times,’ Bill interjected sourly. ‘Probably be doin’ a jig, they will.’
‘Can’t tar ’em all with the same brush.’ Matilda wagged a finger. ‘The Irish couple wot’s just moved in along the road don’t seem bad people. Spoke to the woman the other day when she was coming out of Smithie’s shop and she was as polite as yer like. Introduced herself straight off. Noreen Murphy’s her name and she said her husband’s called Kieran.’
‘Well, I don’t reckon they should have camped in that dump in the first place,’ Vic mumbled, slightly chastened. ‘They’ve got a couple of young kids with ’em. It ain’t right, livin’ like that.’
‘Couple of sweet little girls they are ’n’ all,’ Matilda remarked. ‘But yer can’t always pick ’n’ choose when it comes to putting a roof over yer family’s head.’
‘As far as I’m concerned they can stop in the road as long as they like if they ain’t causing trouble.’ Chris chipped in his opinion.
‘Well, I’m getting off home now,’ Vic announced, sounding sulky.
‘Winston Churchill’s gonna make a broadcast to the nation tomorrow about King George.’ Matilda’s tone was solemn once more. ‘Eight o’clock on the Home Service, just so’s you know when to tune in.’
CHAPTER TWO
‘Keep moving … keep moving … please …’
The crowd obediently shuffled away from the gates of Buckingham Palace to congregate instead on the nearby pavement. Nobody seemed to want to leave although it was bitterly cold and raining. In fact, as news had spread, people who’d been travelling home from their offices in the City had diverted to St James’s, swelling the multitude mourning the death of the king.
People were huddling together, turning up collars and pulling hats firmly down over their ears. But they stayed where they were, staring solemnly through the gloom at the royal palace where the Union Jack was limply fluttering at half-mast. Above the politely insistent voices of the policemen could be heard the sound of men and women weeping.
‘Come on now, over the road, please. Move away from the gates, madam …’
Matilda knuckled burning tears from her eyes and obeyed the constable’s request. He looked to her to be no more than a boy, but he had a nice face, and had kindly patted her shoulder on noticing her distress.
Having got a foothold on the packed kerb Matilda tried to wedge her stout body into a tight space. A woman in a luxurious fur coat unintentionally jostled her, knocking her back into the road. Matilda’s arthritic joint gave her a jolt and she gasped aloud.
‘So sorry, my dear,’ the woman murmured in a cut-glass accent.
Matilda nodded acceptance of the apology, rubbing her knee.
‘We’re going to miss him terribly,’ the woman added and shuffled sideways to make a space for Matilda next to her on the pavement.
Matilda settled beside her, aware of a floral scent wafting from the little lacy hanky the lady had held to her nose. ‘Right ’n’ all we are,’ Matilda gruffly returned. ‘His eldest gel’s got big shoes to fill …’ She broke off to watch as a sleek limousine drew up by the gates and was allowed through. She’d been outside the palace since five o’clock that afternoon, and during that time had seen many visitors arrive. A bobby on duty had explained to someone – and the information had rippled through the throng – that foreign diplomats were arriving to sign a book of condolences.
‘King and queen helped get us through the war, didn’t they?’ Matilda carried on in her rough tone. ‘Could’ve run and hid somewhere safe but they didn’t.’
The fur-coated woman nodded her elegantly coiffed head and on impulse shared the protection of her umbrella with Matilda. ‘Wonderful, steadfast people,’ she agreed and again wiped her nose. ‘She’s in Kenya, you know …’ At Matilda’s quizzical look the lady explained. ‘Young Elizabeth … she’s at the Royal Hunting Lodge in Kenya. But I’ve no doubt, she’ll be flying straight home. What dreadfully sad tidings for her and Margaret.’
‘’S’pect she would have stayed with her dad had she known how grave it all were,’ Matilda said. ‘Can’t change that now. Still, he got a peaceful end, so I heard on the wireless. That’s a blessing and no more’n he deserved.’
‘Amen to that,’ the woman said and closed her eyes.
‘Matilda Keiver?’
Matilda heard her name faintly called and pivoted about in surprise. Having looked this way and that she suddenly noticed a woman’s face and neck stretching to gaze over a sea of hats. Matilda bobbed her head to and fro to try and guess the identity of the woman now waving at her. She squinted and then her lips parted in an astonished smile. ‘Friend of mine’s over there. Better go and say hello,’ she told the well-to-do lady. СКАЧАТЬ