A Lesser Evil - Lesley Pearse [30]
It was now early May. Spring had finally arrived with much-longed-for sunshine, and when Dan had rung her earlier in the week and jubilantly said he’d found a place at last and could borrow a van at the weekend to move her and their belongings, Fifi was overjoyed. She spoke to the landlord and her boss at the solicitors the very next day, and although the landlord insisted she gave him another week’s rent in lieu of notice, her boss was really nice about it and said she could finish up at the end of the week.
Dan had admitted that Kennington wasn’t the best of areas, and the flat was a bit crummy, but always the optimist, she had assumed that all it would need was a bit of cheering up with pictures and perhaps a lick of paint.
But she had burned all her bridges by giving up the old flat and her job, so she knew she really didn’t have any choice. She had to accept this was her new home.
Dan opened the door of the living room. ‘After you, Princess,’ he said, making a comic, sweeping bow.
Fifi stifled a gasp of horror and desperately scanned the room looking for some attractive feature that she could praise. But there was nothing. Twelve square feet of scruffy patterned lino, hideous old floral wallpaper, and the kind of worn-out furniture people left out for the dustman.
‘I know it’s pretty grim,’ Dan said, his voice subdued and troubled. ‘But I didn’t want us to be apart any longer. We can make it nice. Can’t we?’
Fifi’s heart melted just as it always did when he looked at her with imploring spaniel eyes. ‘Look, it gets the afternoon sun,’ she said, trying very hard to do magic eyes. The faded orange curtains didn’t even reach the sill of the dirty window, but she could replace those. ‘Once we get our things in here it will look quite different.’
Dan smiled in relief and moved over to kiss her. But as his arms went round her, an angry shout from the street below made them both move over to the window.
A girl of about seven was running up the road, hotly pursued by an overweight woman with her bleached blonde hair in curlers.
‘Come back ’ere, yer little bleeder!’ she yelled angrily.
The child stopped running. She was crying and looked terrified. The woman reached her, caught her by the shoulder and slapped her round the face so hard that Fifi winced.
‘’Ow many times’ave I got to tell yer?’ the woman ranted, dragging the girl back down the street by her ear. ‘You do’s what I tell you or else.’
As they reached the house opposite Dan and Fifi, the woman gave the child another thump around the head, then pushed her in through the front door, kicking her up the backside as she went.
The front door slammed behind them and Fifi looked at Dan questioningly, deeply shocked by what they’d witnessed.
‘I expect she’s a little sod,’ Dan said thoughtfully. ‘But I hate it when people lay into children.’
Fifi thought such blatant brutality needed reporting, but she was too stunned to comment. Her parents had never resorted to hitting her or her brothers and sister. They might be punished by being sent to bed, or having their pocket money docked, but never by anything physical.
‘I hope that isn’t an indication of what we can expect here,’ Fifi said quietly, still looking out of the window. Dan had often said she was entirely ignorant of what life was like for people living on low wages, in poor housing, but if that was how they behaved she’d rather stay in ignorance.
The view from the window held no cheer. It was of a cul-de-sac, ending in a coal yard behind big gates, with seven three-storey terraced houses on each side. Even though it was a sunny day, the houses were too tall and the street too narrow to let in much sunshine. From her vantage point on the second floor, Fifi could