A Lesser Evil - Lesley Pearse [28]
Fifi said she couldn’t bear that, but he stopped her with a kiss.
‘Look, Fifi,’ he said. ‘I’ve got to do something before things get even worse. Let’s face it, nothing’s worked out since we got married.’
‘It’s only the job that’s gone wrong,’ she said.
‘It’s not and you know it,’ he said softly. ‘You miss your folks terribly, and all those friends who’ve dropped you. I could say that none of them are worth a light if that’s how little they really care about you, but that would only start another row.’
‘You aren’t trying to say you’re going to leave me?’ she asked in panic.
‘Don’t be daft. I’d even put up with your mother sleeping here in our bed rather than lose you. But we’ve got to find a way out of all this. What if we both moved to London and started all over again?’
‘I couldn’t go. There’s my job,’ she protested.
‘A legal secretary would get more money in London,’ he said. ‘And I’ll be earning more too. Just suppose I went up there alone and found us a flat, then you joined me when you were ready?’
Fifi thought about it for a moment. The thought of moving to London was very appealing. It was busy, exciting and with so much more going on than there was in Bristol. Once she might have been afraid to leave her friends, but they’d all vanished anyway, and away from here she wouldn’t be reminded about her parents so much either.
‘It would be an adventure,’ she said eventually. ‘Imagine us walking through Hyde Park on a summer afternoon, or going to Petticoat Lane on a Sunday!’
‘It’s dirty, noisy and fast,’ he reminded her. ‘They call people from the West of England “Swedes” and think we go about in smocks with straws hanging out of our mouths.’
Fifi giggled. ‘They couldn’t think that about you. They’re more likely to ask where your bow and arrow is.’
‘So will you think about it?’
‘I have,’ she said. ‘Yes, we’ll go. Just as soon as you’ve found somewhere for us to live.’
Suddenly it didn’t matter that they were lying in the dark unable to even have a cup of tea. It didn’t matter either that her family didn’t approve of Dan. He was here lying next to her, his skin as silky as a child’s, and she loved him. They would go to London and make a wonderful life for themselves. And to hell with everyone.
Chapter four
Fifi walked slowly up the stairs of 4 Dale Street, looking with trepidation at the horrible orangey-brown varnish on the doors, and wallpaper so old it was impossible to see a pattern. Dan was bounding on ahead, enthusiastically listing the advantages of Kennington. These seemed to be mainly that it was so central, just a couple of stops on the tube to the West End.
Fifi could see that it had once been a very good area, judging by the many imposing large houses on the main road. But just as St Paul’s in Bristol had once been a good address until the middle classes moved out, the same seemed to have happened here. The big houses were now very dilapidated, their front gardens full of rubbish, and judging by the number of people lounging around on the front steps, they were mainly divided up into rabbit warrens of small flats and bedsitters.
Elsewhere Fifi had noticed yawning gaps where houses had been bombed during the war, and instead of being rebuilt the sites had become dumping grounds for old furniture and mattresses. She had also observed that although there were many shops, they all looked grubby and tired. She thought the council might as well have erected a sign saying ‘Only the poor live here’, for there were no quality shops, just a depressingly large number of fish-and-chip places, pubs and second-hand shops.
But even if parts of Kennington appeared to have had a more elegant past, Dale Street didn’t. It looked as if it had been designed in Victorian times to house as many people as possible in the smallest space. The houses didn’t even have front gardens.
‘Here we are!’ Dan said unnecessarily as he reached the last flight of stairs. ‘It’s almost entirely self-contained. I think