When He's Gone
In the early 1950s, the borders of Leyton and Walthamstow were a thriving and busy community. The buildings were generally grubby (on the outside), partly because of the War, but mainly due to more than a hundred years of uncontrolled pollution. Virtually every house used coal for heating and the chimneys all pumped smoke during the colder weather. And damp conditions led to the inevitable thick fogs that London was known for. It was estimated that 12,000 people died as a result of the great smog of 1952.
The Baker's Arms was a pub on the corner of Lea Bridge Road and Hoe Street. It was named after the Baker's Alms houses built in 1866 and sited a hundred yards further down Lea Bridge Road (or up, depending upon your viewpoint, although it runs East-West). The pub was the focal point of the local area, especially on market days when the stalls were lined up outside. Across the road was the popular art deco façade of the Woolworths store while diagonally opposite was Barclays Bank.
On the Hoe Street side was a curved parade of shops which included the ever-popular Manze's Pie and Eel shop.
Although it was essentially a crossroads, coming from Walthamstow there was a road that followed the line of the shops, but beyond it was a triangle shaped island which helped to form the crossroads proper. Within that triangle was sited the Public Conveniences.
The roads themselves were cobbled and still had the tram lines inset in them -- although the overhead cables were now used for the electric "trolley" buses. Unlike the trams, these were able to swoop in close to the kerb and the bus stop, making it much safer for passengers who, in the tram days, had to walk to the middle of the road to get on.
Not far from the Baker's Arms lived Abigail and her husband Samuel, with their two children David (12) and Adam (10). Sam worked in a small factory down in the more industrial part of Lea Bridge Road, near to the prefab houses built to accommodate the homeless who had been bombed out during the War.
The couple married in 1940, when it became obvious that Sam wasn't going to get called up due to the essential War work that he had become involved in (uniform belt buckles). Of course, he felt embarrassed to be in a reserved occupation, so he "did his bit" by joining the ARP, one of 1.4 million volunteers.
Almost within a month of getting married, Abi fell pregnant and nine months later gave birth to a son. It was a difficult pregnancy, what with the frequent air raid warnings and necessary decamping from the bedroom to the Anderson shelter in the garden. Usually damp and not very warm at the best of times, it led to many an uncomfortable night -- particularly as she was alone while Sam was out on air-raid duty.
In March 1941, during a period of dry weather, Abi gave birth to a healthy boy that they named Samuel after his father, but thenceforward known as Sammy to differentiate between the two.
Less than two years later she bore another son, who they named Douglas, after Sam's father (who had previously been killed in a bombing raid along with his wife).
The Blitz proper was over, and it was now rare to have to go down to the bomb shelter. Rationing was more of a problem and Abi had to be very inventive with the limited provisions she could lay her hands on -- Sam had made it clear that there was to be no subsidising via the black market.
For a while it was thought that the danger to London's civilians was just about over, but 1944 proved that to be untrue. That was the year that Hitler commanded the use of terror weapons, beginning with the V1, otherwise known as the "Doodlebug" or "Flying Bomb". The first was launched In June of that year and during the height of the bombings in the Summer over a hundred bombs were falling every hour. On 16
th
August one fell at the junction of Hoe Street and Church Hill. Abi was fortunate to have been just far enough away not to have been affected, but in such a busy place twenty-two people died and a hundred and forty-four were injured. The dead included a bus driver, previously invalided out of the army. His conductress (or Clippy as they were known) Lillian Clarkin was trapped and injured but refused help and later went unaided for treatment.
The real terror from these weapons was not the explosion, or even the raucous buzzing, but the steady growing drone as it approached -- and then the silence. Waiting, waiting to hear where it would land, hoping and praying that it would land on someone else, someone you didn't know.
*****
The War ended and although rationing continued, things started to return to a kind of normality. Naturally, there was a lot of building work going on both to repair damaged buildings and to replace destroyed ones. Sam's employers, having profited well from the conflict, were able to return to their original work and even expanded the business. Sam, being a valued employee was rewarded with a higher wage than most of the engineers.
Five years later, Sam and Abi were able to move into a three-bedroom rented property in one of the roads off Hoe Street.
Sam became a creature of habit; leaving work on time and arriving home at 5.20pm -- except for Friday (which was pay day), when he would stop off at the pub for a half pint, before continuing home.
The boys were now 12 and 10 respectively and had been taught to do their fair share of chores around the house. There was no question of Abi returning to work, so she busied herself with needle work skills. She was able to make most of her own and the boys' clothes and had even tailored some for Sam.
Everything was good. They were a happy family in a nice home with friendly neighbours. From their wedding night onwards, they indulged in sex regularly, although twelve years later the frequency had diminished. It was never adventurous, always in bed, with the lights out and after the children were asleep. The only exception to this was when Sam had run out of protection, or it was that time of the month, in which case Abi would relieve him by hand. It certainly dealt with Sam's frustrations, but not with her own. From the first time that her husband had touched her breasts and nipples, there seemed to be a direct connection with her vagina. And long as Sam played with her a little before "making love" she was almost certain to get that incredible feeling that washed over her and left her breathless, yet content.
*****
Then, one Friday, Sam didn't come home. Abi was surprised when the clock chimed six and he hadn't appeared, but she didn't feel a need to panic. Yet.
By 7pm she was beginning to become concerned, so she told the boys to behave and read a book while she went out for a while. She put on her high heeled shoes and grabbed her handbag but didn't bother with a coat -- she wasn't going far. Abi walked swiftly and with purpose down to the bottom of the road, turned the corner by the toy shop and headed towards the Baker's Arms, all the time scanning the people for a sight of her husband.
At the pub, she went in each of the bars and looked around for him. People noticed her presence, looked up enquiringly, but then soon turned back to their preoccupation of reading the Evening News, talking about Leyton Orient's opening match of the season against Arsenal, or taking their turn at the dartboard. The last section she investigated was probably the one her husband was least likely to have gone into, sawdust on the floor and an atmosphere thick with cigarette smoke. He wasn't there either. But his foreman was.
She had never taken to Jack Quigley. Oh, he was friendly, but perhaps a little too friendly. She felt that he was imagining her undressed whenever she noticed him looking her way. And, although she hadn't dared to tell Sam, he once gave her bottom a sly little slap. She had turned to look at him in shock and surprise, but he just grinned and said, "Nice."
