King's Cross Kid Read Free Page B

shouting and screaming fit to wake the dead. But I was also told that Mum got the extra coupons she had pleaded for.
    On the walk home Mum collected what food we needed for the next three or four days. She always included a tin of Tate & Lyle’s Golden Syrup as a special treat for us boys. As well as having it on our morning porridge (which she was a great believer in), it also livened up the dryness of the stale loaves of bread. The only time John and I ever tasted fresh bread was when we were round at Gran’s in Kenton Street. Stale loaves only cost a penny whereas a fresh loaf was threepence and sometimes even more.
    When Granddad learnt of my fracas with the relief people he patted me on the back and gave me twopence to buy some sweets. Gran wasn’t so sure: ‘Don’t encourage ’im to be rude to ’is betters, Will, he’s too cheeky for ’is age as it is.’ I still got the twopence.
    After little Emily had been with us for six months or more Mum got a permanent job with the firm in Bridle Lane which meant she was a bit better off and we could afford to buy fresh bread instead of the stale bread and, more importantly, she didn’t have to go begging any more.
    One evening we were round our gran’s in Kenton Street where our mum used to pick us up on her way home from work. ‘Gran, can we take the babe round the block in the pram? It’s nice and sunny out.’ Gran wasn’t too sure about this. She was frightened of us larking about and tipping the pram over. ‘We’ll be very careful, Gran.’ It worked. Gran tucked little Emily into the pram, making certain that all the straps were tight, and we set off. ‘Where we going then?’ says John. ‘I thought we could go and meet Mum from work.’ ‘That’s miles away,’ he moaned. ‘No it ain’t, twenty minutes that’s all, we can take the babe for a nice ride and Mum can show her to her friends.’ ‘Gran will give us a thump when we get back.’ ‘Nah she won’t, we’re giving her a rest.’ Soon we were in Soho, almost at Bridle Lane, and pushing our way through the people who were rushing out of their offices and shops on the start of their journey home. In Lexington Street, where our Uncle Frank worked, a big policeman appeared in front of us. ‘Where do you think you two are going with that baby, and where did you find it?’ It didn’t take long for a crowd to gather to get a better view of the two scruffs who had nicked some poor mother’s child. The copper bent down to get a look at our Emmy who, because the pram had come to a stop, was beginning to bawl her little head off. ‘You keep yer ’ands off our Emmy,’ I scream at the copper. By this time John was near to tears, but he turned the situation: ‘We’re going to meet our mum from work, Emmy is our baby sister.’ The policeman had now switched his attention away from me and was listening to John, who could make people think that butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth. The policeman stood aside, the crowd dispersed and we continued the last couple of hundred yards to where Mum worked.
    As soon as we got there down came the girls, saying their goodnights and full of the chatter that women are so good at. We both spotted Mum at the same time and in seconds we were surrounded by her friends who all wanted to have a go at holding Emmy. I could see that Mum was very happy showing her baby around, then I saw the copper who was still hanging around. ‘Look, Mum, ’e wanted to pinch our Emmy. ’E was going to lock us up in the cop shop.’ In a few seconds the women’s attention had been diverted from little Emmy to the large figure of the policeman. ‘You ought to be ashamed of yerself. Fancy frightening little boys. Go and fight someone yer own size.’ All the women let the copper have it without mercy. In the end he made the best of the situation and slunk away.
    John was still worried about getting a thump from Gran when we got home, but Mum said, ‘Don’t be silly, John. Granny