Last Rights by Barbara Nadel

Author:Barbara Nadel [Nadel, Barbara]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780755378517
Publisher: Headline
Published: 2010-05-06T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eleven

We were half-way down the Commercial Road when the sirens went off. Luckily I was driving or we might’ve ended up coming to grief. The horses still can’t quite get a hold on themselves when the sirens start off and Arthur is still a little bit afraid to pull as hard as he should on the reins.

‘What are we gonna do, Mr H?’ Arthur said. ‘It’s miles back to the shop.’

‘Don’t you have an auntie round here somewhere?’ I said.

In a split second Arthur went from being terrified to delighted. Young people can do that. ‘Yes!’ he said. ‘Auntie Flo. She lives up by Barnes Street. She’s got an Anderson in her garden. We can go there.’

So we did. Less than five minutes later there we were, outside Auntie Flo’s, me taking leave of Arthur to the sound of the Jerry bombers streaming down over the river.

Auntie Flo, who was about fifty years old and about twenty stone in weight, grabbed hold of my sleeve with one swollen hand. ‘You get in here, Mr Hancock,’ she said. ‘Come on! I won’t take no for an answer.’

‘I can’t leave these horses,’ I said, as I hung on grimly to Rama and Sita’s reins. ‘Without the horses, I don’t have any business.’

As gently as I could, I took Auntie Flo’s hand away from my arm, then swung myself up into the driving seat. Just before the first explosion, which had to be, I reckoned, down near Silvertown Way, I heard her say to Arthur, ‘You’re right, he is a bleedin’ nutcase.’

I knew I’d never be able to get the horses or the hearse back to the shop in one piece until the raid was over. What I needed was somewhere to hole up for a while, somewhere under cover. I needed it soon too. The horses were beginning to bare their teeth and stamp, which is not a good sign. Sometimes I speak softly to them, in the small amount of Hindi the Duchess has taught me, and this does serve to calm them. But the noise was so terrific now that I could hardly hear my own voice above the din of falling bombs and shattering explosions. Christ, that Ruby Reynolds had done a right number on me! The hearse, at least, should’ve been back in the yard hours before, with both horses locked up in their stable. But instead I was out, yes, but I was pretty much hobbled by the horses and the vehicle.

Turning out of Auntie Flo’s road, back on to the Commercial, the railway bridge hit me in the eye like a gift from God Almighty. Jesus, the Limehouse railway bridge, we could get under there! Not like a proper shelter or anything, but at least it would hold for anything but a direct hit. There were also, I could see now, people there too – about ten if I was right. Maybe they’d even help me with the horses if the poor beasts really got frightened.

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