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Authors: Mary Jane Staples

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BOOK: The Way Ahead
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‘Well, it’s a fact you’ll need somewhere to live,’ said Sammy.

‘It’s the usual thing, Uncle Sammy,’ said Jonathan, enjoying his light ale, which an off-licence keeper had produced from under his counter for Sammy, along with another bottle. Sammy had his way of getting various shopkeepers to forage about under their counters for consumables and other items in short supply. ‘We go along with having a roof and a front door.’

‘Well, Jonathan, we don’t want you to be like Flanagan and Allen, living underneath the arches,’ smiled Susie.

‘Too draughty, Aunt Susie,’ said Jonathan, returning her smile, and Emma thought what a nice face her country chap had, firm and manly, with good humour written all over it. That didn’t mean he was a soft-speaking sergeant, an easy touch for recruits. She’d met some of his fellow NCOs, and they’d told her that when Jonathan was delivering reprimands to a squad of trainee gunners, the shock waves cracked teacups in the camp Naafi. ‘Yes, we’d prefer a roof and a tidy old amount of bricks and mortar,’ he said.

‘With a garden,’ said Emma.

‘Emma,’ said Sammy, ‘d’you happen to know the firm’s in the property business?’

‘Oh, I know,’ said Emma, sipping her port. ‘Grandma keeps us all informed of everything.’

‘Ought to be Minister of Information,’ said Sammy, lively blue eyes conveying a hint that an interesting announcement was about to come forth. ‘Now it so happens that our property company has just acquired a house in Ferndene Road off Denmark Hill.’

‘For you and Aunt Susie to rent from the firm?’ said Emma.

‘Rent’s money down the drain,’ said Sammy, looking pained.

‘In any case,’ said Susie, ‘Sammy and me are going to have a new house built on the site of our bombed one, just as soon as the war is over.’

‘Incorporating some of your own ideas?’ said Jonathan. ‘I’d call that exciting.’

‘Mentally, Susie’s already built the kitchen,’ said Sammy, ‘a bit on the lines of Buckingham Palace. She’s well known to me and our kids for being mental.’

‘You’ll be well known for having a large hole in your head in a minute,’ said Susie.

‘Noted,’ said Sammy. ‘Where was I? I got it, yes. In regard to this lately acquired desirable residence in Ferndene Road, we thought we’d hold it for you two, Jonathan, and to let you buy it from the firm on an instalment basis if you’d like to move in after the war. Of course, there’d be a bit of reasonable interest chargeable. When I say reasonable, I mean it won’t give you and Emma heartburn or fainting fits, unlike the arm-twisting interest charged by loan companies. What we had in mind was a fair return for the firm.’

‘Uncle Sammy!’ Emma sat up straight and looked Sammy in the eye.

‘Do I suspect you’re offended?’ said Sammy.

‘Offended?’ said Emma. ‘I should say not. Well, I’m not, and neither is Jonathan, are you, Jonathan?’

‘I don’t feel any kind of offence coming on,’ said Jonathan. ‘I feel more like I’m falling off this chair.’ That reaction out of the way, he eyed Sammy seriously. ‘Mr Adams, are we talking about a house and home waiting for Emma and me as soon as the war’s over?’

‘That’s the idea,’ said Sammy.

It’s a lovely house,’ said Susie, ‘fully detached, with four bedrooms, a boxroom, large kitchen, and apple trees in the garden.’

‘Oh, my sainted aunt,’ said Emma.

‘Is that me?’ smiled Susie.

‘No, I meant – well, yes, why not?’ said Emma. ‘I know Ferndene Road, and I know the kind of properties there. Jonathan knows it too, but only because it was one of the roads we took in this afternoon.’ She looked at Jonathan, her mouth parted and excited little breaths escaping. ‘Say something, Jonathan.’

‘I will,’ said Jonathan. ‘Could I ask you to outline the terms, Uncle Sammy?’

‘It was an offer, fully furnished, for a sum that hurt me ears,’ said Sammy. ‘But the firm acquired it for five-ten, which was only slightly painful. Terms for you and Emma? Well, you pay for it at the rate of seven pounds a month for six years, plus ten per cent simple interest, which is fourteen bob a month, and which means that at the end of six years it’ll have cost you five hundred and sixty-one quid in all. That’s a lot less than if you took out a loan or a mortgage. Fair?’

‘Fairer than anything else I ever heard of,’ said Jonathan.

‘Especially as Aunt Susie says the house is lovely,’ said Emma, flushed with sheer delight. ‘I can always believe you, Aunt Susie.’

‘Thank you, Emma,’ smiled Susie.

‘Uncle Sammy, we adore the prospect of having the house on those terms,’ enthused Emma. ‘Jonathan will tell you so too, won’t you, Jonathan?’

‘I think I’ve already made that clear,’ said Jonathan. ‘It’s a very fair deal, Uncle Sammy.’

‘All in the family,’ said Sammy. ‘Right now, it’s let on a lease for the duration of the war to an American major and his wife. He’s holding down a centenary job with the Allied Command’s London headquarters.’

‘Centenary?’ said Jonathan.

‘That’s it, it’s a desk job,’ said Sammy.

‘Sedentary?’ suggested Jonathan.

‘Knew it was something like that,’ said Sammy blithely.

‘Yes, something like that,’ smiled Susie.

‘The rent from this happy Yank, who wangled a passage over for his Philadelphia missus, helps us look after genuine maintenance costs as landlords,’ said Sammy. ‘Which means we don’t pay for any furniture or windows they break if they have a ding-dong. Just any natural deterioration. It’ll leave a bit over for the property firm’s bank account, which is a consideration that accords with Susie’s business principles.’

‘Mine, Sammy?’ said Susie.

‘Glad you’ve got the right kind, Susie,’ said Sammy. ‘What I’m saying, Jonathan, is that when you and Emma move in after Hitler’s been fried, the house’ll be in good order. Mind, I won’t be able to speak for the furniture, which’ll depend on how Major Happy Yank and Mrs Happy Yank use it.’

‘I’m not going to object to them having happy times on the sofa, and I won’t be bothered if the armchairs take a beating,’ said Jonathan. ‘I’ve got a job lined up with a firm of City accountants after the
war
, so I’ll sign up on your terms, Uncle Sammy.’

‘As Jonathan’s better half,’ said Emma, ‘I’ll sign up too. Aunt Susie, I don’t believe in wives being left out of important documents, do you?’

‘I’ve had some problems with Sammy, Emma,’ said Susie, ‘but I’ve straightened them all out. And Sammy too,’ she added as a thinking woman’s afterthought.

Sammy grinned.

‘Have you got problems yourself, Uncle Sammy?’ asked Jonathan with a grin.

‘Only Susie,’ said Sammy. ‘Well, that’s it, then, glad you young people are happy about everything.’

‘Uncle Sammy,’ said Emma, ‘why are you doing this for me and Jonathan?’

‘It’s a family business,’ said Sammy, ‘and what we’re doing for you and Jonathan is good business for all concerned.’

‘Well, bless you and the business,’ said Emma.

‘It’s still light,’ said Susie, ‘so if you and Jonathan have got time, would you like Sammy to run you up to Ferndene Road to look at the house?’

‘Oh, yes,’ said Emma.

Ferndene Road wasn’t far, being on the opposite side of Denmark Hill to Red Post Hill, but Sammy took the young couple in his car. He pulled up outside the house in question, and Emma and Jonathan took in its aspect. Double-fronted with a central porch and latticed windows, it was built of attractive multicoloured brick. It was typically suburban. The Denmark Hill area, close though it was to Camberwell and Walworth, did have a look more suburban than urban. Emma, well-read, knew
a
certain kind of knowing people would call the house pseudo-something-or-other, but as far as she was concerned it represented a dream post-war beginning for herself and Jonathan. And their post-war children. It was like other houses in the area that they’d admired, larger than they thought they’d be able to afford, but Uncle Sammy’s offer brought it within reach, even though he hadn’t offered it on a long-term basis. Six years was better business for the firm, and Emma could understand that.

‘Just say if you think it’s not what you’d like,’ said Sammy.

‘Love it,’ said Emma.

‘Family house,’ said Jonathan.

Lights were on and there was a faint sound of music.

‘Seems like the tenants are throwing a party,’ said Sammy, ‘so I can’t ask ’em to let you look around. But you’ve got my word it’s pretty handsome, and you can always decorate to suit your own tastes.’

‘We’re happy as things stand,’ said Jonathan, thinking he’d be able to afford nearly two pounds a week out of his wages. He’d been promised a starting salary of eighteen pounds a month because of his pre-war experience with accountants at Camberwell Green. The offer of the job had come from Captain Bradshaw, a peacetime partner in the City firm, and presently an officer on the cadre of the training camp.

Sammy drove the young couple back to Red Post Hill, where they spent some time with Chinese Lady, Mr Finch and Daniel, a young man with some of Sammy’s electricity. Emma was bubbling over,
and
Chinese Lady, approving of the arrangement, said it was going to be nice having her and Jonathan living in the family area, and that Sammy had always had his good points, even if he wasn’t always as respectful as he ought to be and spent too much time thinking about money.

‘Oh, well, he doesn’t keep it in his old socks any more, Mum,’ said Susie. ‘Most of it’s in the bank.’

‘It should be fairly safe there,’ said Mr Finch.

‘I’ll have a look at it, if you like, Dad,’ said Daniel. ‘Say at a charge of one per cent.’

‘Sammy, that makes me ask if you go and count it sometimes to make sure it’s all there,’ said Chinese Lady.

‘In a manner of speaking, once a year at audit time,’ said Sammy.

‘Well, I suppose once a year’s enough if you trust the bank,’ said Chinese Lady.

‘Just as much as old socks, Ma,’ said Sammy.

‘I don’t know what Emma and Jonathan think of you calling me Ma,’ said Chinese Lady. ‘I’ve told you a hundred times it’s common. Still, you’ve been very family-minded about the house for them, so I won’t go on at you. We all hope it’ll make a nice home for you and Emma, Jonathan, which I’m sure you both deserve, and I must say it’s a blessing you’ve got a healthy job on a farm, Emma, instead of being a woman soldier like Eloise. I can’t say I’ll ever believe women ought to be soldiers. Look what might have happened if Rosie and your Aunt Polly had been soldiers when their babies were due. A fine thing that would have been, having their babies with guns going off.’

Mr Finch coughed, as was his wont when Chinese Lady’s observations were a bit over the top.

‘Um, I think that would have been avoided, Maisie,’ he said.

‘I should hope so,’ said Chinese Lady.

‘I never fancied soldiering myself, Grandma, and I like doing my bit on the land,’ said Emma, thinking how alert and sprightly her grandma was at sixty-seven. She still seemed to keep an eye on everyone, whether they were at home or away. Grandpa Finch was beginning to age a bit, but even at seventy he still had a distinguished look, and went to his Government work every day, being determined to give his services until the war ended. His department must think a lot of him, or they’d have insisted on retiring him. ‘Uncle Sammy and the family firm have made Jonathan and me very happy, Grandma, but we really must go now.’

She and Jonathan said goodbye, Jonathan leaving pocket money for Paula and Phoebe. On their way by bus to Kennington, Jonathan said, ‘Our own house, Emma.’

‘Our own house and home, Jonathan, for us and our own family,’ said Emma.

‘You reckon you like that idea, Emma?’

‘I reckon, Jonathan.’

In bed with Sammy later, Susie said, ‘I’m really happy for Emma and Jonathan, and you can go to the top of the class for being so good to them, and for saying it cost the firm five hundred and ten pounds instead of the real price of five hundred and fifty.’

‘Well, family, y’know, and Emma’s sister Annabelle and her husband Nick have already got their own house,’ said Sammy. ‘But the firm will consider approaches from other nieces and nephews when their time comes. Further, Susie, it’s good business right enough in this case, considering the happy Yank is paying rent of forty-eight quid a month.’

‘How much?’ asked Susie.

‘Forty-eight smackers per calendar month, Susie. I’ve got to admit it, the blokes from over there are loaded and generous. And Mrs Happy Yank is likewise generous and also friendly.’

‘Pardon?’ said Susie.

‘Just friendly, Susie.’

‘And how generous, might I ask?’

‘Just a whisky and soda on the two times I popped in, Susie. She calls it a highball. Apart from that, she’s six feet tall and wears boxing gloves lined with iron filings in case a German paratrooper drops in with ideas about a bit of naughty pillaging, if you get me.’

‘I get you, Sammy.’

‘Susie, even if the war only lasts another year, at that kind of rent we’ll bank nearly six hundred quid, and maintenance costs won’t amount to much, seeing the place is in first-class condition.’

‘Just a minute, didn’t you tell me a rent of twelve pounds a month originally?’ said Susie.

‘No, twelve a week approximately, Susie.’

‘Sammy Adams, at the end of a year that’ll nearly cover what the firm paid for it,’ said Susie.

‘Um, a bit more actually,’ said Sammy.

‘Then what you’ll get from Jonathan and Emma will be all profit. Sammy, it won’t do.’

‘But, Susie, if the war ended next week—’

‘Some hopes,’ said Susie.

‘The proposition is fair business, Susie, and still doing Emma and Jonathan a good turn.’

‘Sammy Adams, I don’t want the firm making that kind of profit at their expense. Jonathan’s serving in the Army and been wounded, and Emma’s working on a farm. They deserve some discount.’

‘Eh?’

‘How much discount is it if you lower the firm’s price to four hundred and twenty-five pounds?’

‘Susie, that’s enough discount to turn me hair white.’

‘I like white hair on men, it makes them look distinguished. So write to Emma and Jonathan and tell them four hundred and twenty-five, not five-ten.’

BOOK: The Way Ahead
11.23Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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