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GUTLESS GUSSIE
by Shirley Friedman
It's not as if it was a crime, wot I did. Come to think of it, that's just wot I didn't do!
Sounds sorta mixed up, don' it? But it's quite simple reelly. You just gotta know some of the facts.
It's like this. There was Bertie and the boys, all set to pull this job at Four Aces Arcade - we figgered that Mister Joe Hargreaves was just beggin' to be 'done', considering 'ow 'e made 'is cash out of cheating people wiv 'is fixed games - and anyway, none of the boys liked him. 'e was always watching us out of the corner of 'is beady blue eyes, 'specially if we got a 'tilt' or somethin'. You'd think we was gonna cheat 'im, 'stead of the uvver way around.
To get back to the point, the trouble is, I let 'em down - the boys, I mean. I never turned up, and they 'ad to go on and do the job wivout me.
As I told Rita afterwards, I was on me way out of the 'ouse, creeping carefully down the stairs, when Ma rolls in wiv our new lodger, Eddie. Raring to go they was - the house fairly rang to "Daisy", and Ma sets 'erself down on the bottom step. I could never 'ave got past wivout them spotting me. "But," I explained anxiously, "it's not as if I didn't try."
Oh well, what's the use. They just didn't believe me. and that's that. "Gutless", they called me, "Gutless Gussie!" I know it ain't the first time I've let them down, but they don't 'arf know how to rub it in. Talk about outcast! You'd 'ave thought I was infectious the way they steered clear of me.
Me chick Rita too! That's wot I call loyalty of the first degree, some hopes! "Gus Pilchard," she sez, her eyes shooting sparks at me, "You're chicken, that's wot you are!" And off she marches, 'er cute little nose 'igh in the air, like there was a bad smell around. It weren't five minutes before she'd latched onto Bertie, and weren't 'e pleased about that. Always wanted to get 'is 'ands on 'er 'e did. Not as I blame 'im. She's quite an 'andful, Rita is, and it makes a guy feel good when uvver blokes turn round to look at 'er bright red 'air, and 'er nice firm fa........! Ch-chmmm, 'scuse me, I got a bit carried away.
Now, 'ere's the set-up. 'ere's the boys getting gay over the small 'aul they made the night before; and 'ere's me, feelng mopey 'cause I'm on me tod; and 'ere - in the middle - is me idea. Do me a favour? Tell me, wot would put me smack in the centre of the gang, and them gaping at me like I was an 'ero? Simple! All I gotta do is pull a better and bigger job, and it's made.
Wivout thinking wot I was about, I bin beaming all over me face at the idea, then I sees a few curious glances comin' me way, so I pretends to be innerested in the sticky rings on the plastic tablecloth, but me mind is racing on madly.
Where, and 'ow? that's the big question.
I thinks up a few possibles, and drops 'em as being too risky, staring meantime through the fly-spotted window on which was writ in big red and yellow letters CHARLIE'S CAFE, and I notices a little old lady comin', one foot at a time, down the steps of the old King George opposite. I watches wivout reelly takin' it in, when - suddenly - the penny drops. Me 'eart beat so fast I thought I was gonna pass out.
I leans forward, watching 'er so closely that I gets a shock when I bumps the glass, and sees 'er turn the corner into the Main Street.
Quickly fishing for some cash, I shoves it under the saucer, and makes a duck, calling back in answer to Charlie's hoarse "Hoy!" to tell him the boodle was on the table.
I suppose you wants to know what was me 'urry? Well, to cut a long story short, as the saying goes, it's like this. I rekernised the old lady as a certain Miss Nottingham, who lives a coupla streets up from us, and I remembers me Ma 'aving a bit of a jaw wiv our next-door neighbour, Mrs. Aarons, some time back, while I was quietly knocking off a few bob from her purse on the kitchen table, which she'd swiped from me trouser's pocket. What she said was very, very innerestin'.
She was saying as 'ow it was common knowledge that Miss Nottingham 'ad a fortune of money stashed away somewhere, 'cause 'er folks 'ad bin toffs, and 'ad left the 'ole caboodle to 'er - being a one-and-only.
Mrs. Aarons seemed to think it a bit much, seeing as 'ow the old girl weren't too well covered, even in winter, but Ma said that everyone knew wot a penny-pincher the old lady was.
"Why, I seen 'er refuse a bloomin' coupla bob to a little kid wot 'elped 'er carry a load of junk to 'er 'ouse. Millie's Archie it was, and 'e cried fit to bust, but she never turned an 'air."
Though it takes long in the tellin', all this passes through me 'ead like a flash. I pertickerly remembers that bit about not givin' a penny to the kid, bein' kinda fond of the brats meself, and I think as it wouldn't worry me a bit, taking the cash off 'er, seeing she was such a bloomin' skinflint.
I reaches the corner, and spots 'er toddlin' along about an 'undred yards ahead of me, clutching a brownpaper-covered bottle to 'er chest wiv one scrawny 'and, and 'elping 'erself along wiv' the knobbly walkin' stick in the uvver, so I follows 'er, sticking me 'ands in me pockets, and strollin' along casual-like.
Weren't long before we reached 'er place - a rundown double-storey that looked as if it 'ad forgotten wot paint smelt like. In places, the plaster 'ad cracked off and showed the bricks underneath, and the wooden window frames seemed crooked, wiv cracks runnin' in all directions, rather like the wrinkles on the old girl's dial.
In fact, it looked much like all the uvver 'ouses round there.
I watched the old girl creak 'er way up the crumblin' stairs, all the time mumblin' to 'erself, and waits till she's opened the door and gone in, then I walks briskly over to a 'Mrs Mop' sweeping the pavement, and tells 'er that I'm from the Council, and wants to ask 'er a few questions. She was very obligin', very obligin' indeed!
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It was bloomin' dark as I tried to pick me way over the tons of rubbish litterin' the empty lot behind Miss Nottingham's 'ouse, and I swore as I stubbed me toe time after time. I 'ad a torch in me pocket, but I didn't dare use it.
Thinkin' back, the last few days seemed to 'ave flown, and yet while I was waitin' and plannin' the job, the minutes seemed to fairly crawl along, like one of them tortoise things I've 'eard about. Still, there I was, wiv ev'rything worked out.
It 'adn't taken me long to find out that the old girl owned the 'ouse, and stayed there alone, which only made me quite sure that she 'ad a nice little pile stashed away somewhere, 'specially as she didn't trust the Banks. "Oh no," she'd told one of the neighbours once, "I wouldn't trust my money in the Bank. It's the first thing they grab when something goes wrong, and then you've had it."
I also found out that the bathroom window didn't close properly, and that suited me fine, 'cause a very convenient drainpipe ran past it.
Yes, ev'rythink just seemed to fall into place - even this empty lot which I once knew like the back of me 'and, and where I 'ad spent lots of time as a kid, 'idden in a sorta cave dug outa the rubble. A casual stroll 'ad showed me the cave was still there, and it would do just right as an 'ideout until the time was ripe.
For a minute me mind went back to me younger days, when I'd get an occasional wallop or thick ear from one of Ma's blokes for talkin' back, or not makin' meself scarce quick enough, and then I'd run and 'ide for a while in me cave. All of a sudden, with the prospect of a tricky job ahead of me, those old days seemed ravver good. It was easy to forget the un'appy times.
I finally reached a big chunk of cement and brick at the back of which was the entrance to the cave, and gratefully rounded it, and crawled into wot now seemed just a small 'ole, though it 'ad appeared enormous once upon a time.
A few seconds later, as I sat scrunched up on the floor, thinkin' about nothin' in pertickerler, me knees almost touchin' me chin, it seemed to me that I was breathin' faster than I was.
Not very clear, is it?
Wot I mean is I could 'ear the sound of fast breathin', and yet, at that time, I was quite calm
I tried takin' slow breaths, and still 'eard the fast breathin', so I realised wiv a shock that there was someone, or somethink, in the cave wiv me.
I tell you, it fair turned me cold. I felt the sweat start out on me face, and I got quite shaky. I put me tremblin' 'ands in me pocket, and slowly pulled out the torch, then quickly pointed it in the direction of the sound, and switched it on.
The white face and enormous eyes that looked back at me might 'ave given me quite a start, if they 'adn't belonged to a kid of about six, who was even more scared than I was.
It turns out that this kid, Alfie, was 'idin' from 'is old man. It was the usual story. 'e'd bin sent out for a bottle from the Red Lion, and by the time 'e'd got there, the cash 'ad disappeared through an 'ole in 'is pocket. 'e knew if 'e went 'ome, 'e'd get 'is Dad's belt across 'is backside, so 'e 'eads for 'is 'ideaway - the same one I'd used as a kid.
Now, I know I was a softie, but I just couldn't turn the little bugger out. 'e was all trembin' and white, and I could see 'e was reelly scared. So I thinks a bit, and then I decides the easiest way out was to take the kid 'ome, and try and square things for 'im. I 'ad lots of time to spare, and I felt sorry for the poor blighter.
On the way, I gives Alfie me torch to play wiv so's 'e won't think too much on wot was waitin' for 'im at 'ome, and 'e 'as a fine time shinin' it in all the windows. As we passed the Red Lion, I tells 'im to 'ang on while I pops in and gets a bottle. You might think I was nuts, but - well, I thought it would save a lot of problems all round.
I 'ands the poor kid over to the tender care of 'is lovin' pa, who practically snatched the bottle out of me 'and, and I couldn't 'elp remarking as 'ow I thought the kid was a bit young to be toddlin' rahnd pubs - 'specially at that time of night.
The old man's bushy eyebrows lifted in surprise, and I thought his jaw 'ad broke from the way it dropped and 'ung against his dirty vest, so I marches off quickly before 'e could find 'is voice.
Proud of meself I was, and all the way back I 'ad a sorta glow that makes me forget wot I was going to do that night. The sight of the empty plot brings it all back though, and I begins to feel a bit uneasy.
I wait in the cave till the place is all quiet, and checks me
watch, the luminous dial gleamin' at me like a copper's eye, and
sees that it is well past the old lady's bedtime, so I takes a
deep breath and thinks, "Gussie Pilchard, it's time you was
on your way."
The drainpipe was easy, though I must admit I'd bin a bit afraid
that it might not take me weight, and soon I was squatting on the
window sill, easing the rickety frame open. I felt for me torch,
then - blimey! - remembered that I'd lent it to little Alfie.
'Cor!' I groaned inwardly, 'some burglar you are wivout a ruddy
torch.'
I thought of givin' up and goin' 'ome to me lumpy little bed, but I could just see Rita and the gang puttin' on the old I'm-better-than-you-are act, so I gritted me teeth and went in.
Foot over the sill, I felt round carefully for somethink solid to stand on, and then touched an 'ard slippery object which didn't give as I brought me weight on it, so I swung me uvver foot over.
Two secs later, I found I was standin' on somethin' only about four inches wide, and bloomin' slippery at that. In an effort to get onto a safer footin', I 'ung onto the window frame, and reached out wiv one of me feet, seeking solid earth - if you know wot I mean.
That did it! That cooked me goose good and proper, 'cause as soon as I was off balance, me foot skidded along, and - well, it's no use tryin' to figger it out for you, 'cause I don't know 'ow I got there meself. All I know is I ended up 'angin' backwards over the sink, wiv me foot jammed under the tap. Could you believe it?
'Course, right then I couldn't reelly figger out wot 'ad 'appened. It was too dark. But, I just couldn't get meself loose. I practic'ly turned meself inside out, but - no go!
I guess I 'adn't realised that me efforts 'ad me gruntin' and groanin' louder and louder, till the door was suddenly flung open, and the light was switched on.
Proper clot I musta looked, 'cause the old lady standing there took one squizz, and start cacklin' fit to bust. Proper funny she looked too, wiv 'er jaw where 'er top plate oughta be. I couldn't 'elp a silly giggle, though I was caught good and proper, like a chicken tied and ready for the oven.
When she quietened down a bit, I managed to gasp out from numb lips that I didn't mean no 'arm! "Don't call the coppers!" I begs 'er, tears gushing out of me eyes (it was only me unnatural position of course!) "Please missus, don't call the coppers!"
"Cops?" she shrills out, 'er breath remindin' me of the inside of an undertakers as she brings her face to within inches of mine, "Cops? That's a laugh that is. I s'pose you was after me so-called fortune, were you? Well, sorry to disappoint you, sonny boy, but the money I've got wouldn't keep you in fags for a week. All you need is a good thrashing!"
Wiv that, she gives a few more 'appy sniggers, lifts 'er stick, and lays into me. Well - a few whacks proved the - er - inspiration I needed to wrench me foot free, and no sooner was I right way up, than I was off, past the old lady (who no longer seemed quite so helpless as she once did), down the stairs, and out from the front door, 'er shrieks of laughter floatin' after me.
I was at least five streets away before I became conscious of the sound of footsteps runnin' after me, together wiv an occasional panted "Gussie, wait for me, wait for me!" In surprise I turns and sees young Alfie trottin' after me, breathin' 'eavily from 'is run.
"Wot are you doin' 'ere?" I asks 'im gruffly, wondering wot 'e was up to now.
"I brought your torch," 'e sez. "You forgot to take it back."
Then 'e tells me 'ow 'e skipped out from 'ome, and made 'is way back to the cave to find me (wot a laugh!) and was just in time to spot me climbin' into Miss Nottingham's window. 'e'd 'ung around a bit, wondering wot to do, when 'e saw me suddenly shoot out of the front door, and take off like a rocket to the moon.
I felt rather bad then, seein' as 'ow the kid 'ad seen me trying to burgle the place. Nice example that was for a kid of 'is age. Then - bless him - the little bugger unknowingly 'elps me out. "Was someone locked out, Gussie?" 'e asks, 'is brown eyes looking confidently into mine. "Is that why you climbed into the window? My Dad 'ad to do that once."
I hesitates a sec, then recognises the expression in his eyes. That kid, little Alfie, was lookin' at me like I was Batman, Santa Claus and James Bond, all rolled up into one. Pity to disappoint 'im.
"Yes," I blurts out, tripping over me words in me 'urry, "'sright, 'swot I was doin'. Wot you might call a....a good deed, you know!"
I felt again that glow, as Alfie nods 'is 'ead as though 'e knew it was that all along, and sneaks 'is grimy paw into me 'and. "That's right," I sez again, liking the taste of it on me tongue, "it was a good deed. Good Deed Gussie, that's me!"
And I swings the little guy up onto me shoulder, and 'eads for 'ome as 'e pipes up, "Good Deed Gussie, that's you. Good Deed Gussie!"