Nobody’s Girl. Kitty Neale

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       Chapter Six

      ‘I’m home, Gran!’ Derek Lewis called as he stepped into the small terraced house. It was Monday and he’d been delayed, but now hurried upstairs. ‘Are you all right?’

      ‘I’m fine,’ she said.

      Derek gazed down at his beloved gran, and frowned worriedly. She still looked frail, despite the doctor saying she had only a touch of bronchitis. Connie Lewis was a tiny woman, grey-haired and thin, but she was wiry and rarely ill. ‘Sorry I’m late but I had a bit of stock to pick up. Have you had your medicine?’

      ‘Yes, and stop looking so worried. I think I’ll be well enough to come downstairs tomorrow.’

      ‘We’ll see.’

      ‘We won’t. If I have to stare at these four bloody walls for much longer, I’ll go batty.’

      ‘All right, keep your hair on. I’m off to make us something to eat. What do you fancy?’

      ‘Something light. Perhaps a boiled egg, with bread and butter.’

      ‘You need more that that. How about a pork chop with mashed potatoes?’

      ‘No, thanks, but you have a chop. Is it your night for the gym?’

      ‘Yes, but I don’t want to leave you if you still feel rough.’

      ‘I told you, I feel fine, and a fraud for laying here.’

      ‘Are you sure you’ll be all right on your own?’

      ‘Gawd, Derek, will you stop treating me like a bleedin’ invalid? I ain’t ready for the knacker’s yard yet.’

      There was a spark in her eyes now and Derek grinned. When his mother had been killed during the war, he’d come to live with his gran. At the time he’d been ten years old, a lost and frightened little boy, but she had taken him under her wing, showering more love on him than he’d ever received from his flighty mother.

      He’d questioned Gran about his father, but she fobbed him off so many times that he’d given up asking. It was only as an adult that he found out why. On his birth certificate, the space for listing the father’s name was blank.

      Derek bent forward, planting a kiss on his gran’s papery cheek. ‘I’m off to put your egg on.’

      ‘It wouldn’t suit you, love.’

      ‘Very funny, and if you’re cracking jokes you must be feeling better.’

      ‘I am, and put plenty of butter on me bread.’

      As Derek went downstairs he found his thoughts turning to the café and the new waitress. Pearl looked such a frail little thing, too frail to be working for Dolly Dolby. When she fainted and he’d carried her to the kitchen, she was as light as a bird, her huge eyes full of fear as she looked at him. Well, she had no need to fear him. In fact, he was determined to look out for the girl.

      In no time his gran’s egg was ready, and having spread the butter thickly on the bread, he carried the tray, complete with a cup of tea, upstairs. ‘There, get that down you.’

      ‘Thanks, pet, and what are you having?’

      ‘I think I’ll pop into the chippy on me way back from the gym. It ain’t good to spar on a full stomach.’

      ‘Derek, you’ve had fish and chips three times this week!’

      ‘It won’t kill me, Gran. You’ll be up soon and no doubt shoving vegetables down me throat again.’

      ‘I will, and I’ll make sure you eat the lot.’

      They smiled at each other. Then Connie tapped the top of her egg, and Derek went to the bathroom for a wash. He stood looking at his face in the mirror over the basin. For a moment a frown creased his forehead. Boxing had certainly taken its toll, and was that the start of a cauliflower ear? Yes, maybe, but what did it matter? He’d never been much to look at in the first place.

      An hour later he’d given his gran another cup of tea, and was ready to leave. ‘Are you sure you’ll be all right on your own?’

      ‘Derek, for goodness’ sake just go. Those kids you’re helping along will be waiting for you.’

      ‘All right, I’ll see you later,’ he called, clattering back downstairs and out of the house.

      In no time he reached the gym, a few kids crowding round him as soon as he walked in. His eyes flicked round the large room, noting a few other nippers having a go on the punch bags, their thin arms making little impact. A couple of blokes were sparring in the ring, a trainer watching them avidly, but other than that the place was empty.

      Derek tousled the nearest boy’s head. ‘Right, let’s get you lot sorted. Jimmy and Bill, you do some skipping, and, Ricky, get your gloves on ready for a spar when the ring is clear.’

      They all ran to do his bidding and he smiled. They were good kids, better off in the gym than running the streets.

      Jimmy, though he wouldn’t admit it to anyone, was Derek’s favourite, a kid he was sure he had turned round. The lad had hesitantly entered the gym six months ago, and it hadn’t taken Derek long to learn that the boy was regularly beaten by his drunken father. He’d been running wild on the streets, rebelling, nicking stuff off stalls, but coming to the gym had changed all that. At first he’d seen the boy taking his anger out on the punch bag, but gradually he had grown in confidence.

      Yes, Jimmy was a lot happier now, especially since Derek had taken it upon himself to have a quiet word in his father’s ear.

      The following morning, Pearl was dashing along the High Street. Some costermongers were already setting up, and as she passed Derek Lewis he raised his hand to wave.

      His stall was half ready, piled СКАЧАТЬ