Farewell To The East End

which was a great disadvantage to her, as it gave her adversary something to grab hold of. Literally hundreds of people were in the courtyard – men, women and children – shouting, jeering, cheering, egging them on. The woman with the long hair had now been forced to the ground, and the other was on top of her, banging her head against the cobblestones.
    Just as I was thinking, Dear God, someone’s got to stop this, I heard the piercing sound of police whistles, and two policemen rushed into the yard, wielding their truncheons to show that they meant business. Had they not come when they did, the woman on her back might have been seriously concussed, if not killed. The police were everywhere in the East End in those days, always on the beat – on foot, of course, as there were very few police cars. Within minutes at least another ten policemen had arrived, summoned by the shrill and distinctive sound of the whistle – there were no short-wave radios to connect members of the force, and the whistle was the only means of summoning help. If they heard it, police would run from every direction towards the source of the sound. Now, at the sight of the Law, the crowd disappeared.
    Within less than two minutes I was alone in the courtyard with the police and the two women, who had by now been separated. The injured one was shivering and moaning in pain. The other was standing over her, held back by a young policeman; but that didn’t stop her snarling and swearing and spitting at the woman on the ground.
    ‘You’ll be charged for this,’ warned the officer.
    ‘Fuck you, see if I care,’ she screamed and attempted to kick him. Another prevented her, saying, ‘If you attack a policeman it will be the worse for you. And if this woman dies it will be a hanging matter.’
    That brought her to her senses. It had not been many years before that Ruth Ellis had been hanged for murdering her lover. The episode had shaken the nation, and memories were still very much alive. Even in the dark and rain, with filth streaked over her face, the woman seemed to turn pale.
    I kneeled down on the wet cobbles to examine the other female, who lay quite still. She was soaking wet, and her long, sodden hair hung down over her face and shoulders. I examined her as best I could in the dark and said, ‘The first thing we have to do is get some blankets. She is in a state of shock, and the cold will do her as much harm as the head injury. Then we must get her to hospital for an X-ray.’
    She moaned, ‘Nah, nah, I don’ wan’ no ’ospital. I’ll be all right.’
    It seemed terribly quiet after all the noise. There was not a soul in sight. A policeman shouted out into the night air, ‘Anyone who can hear me, bring a couple of blankets.’ His voice echoed around the four walls of the tenement courtyard.
    A few minutes later several doors opened, and women came out carrying blankets. They gave them to us and retreated silently back to their flats, shutting the doors behind them. All the lights were off by this time, and faces that we could feel but not see were pressed against every window.
    I rubbed the prostrate woman’s limbs with a blanket to try to warm her, and we wrapped another one around her. Finally she sat up.
    Her assailant perked up no end.
    ‘Garn, she’s all righ’, the cow, she deserves more’n she got, more’s the pi’y. I’d like to see ’er in ’ell.’
    ‘We’re taking you to the station,’ said the young policeman.
    ‘She started it, the fuckin’ bitch.’
    Then suddenly she changed her tune. Perhaps in the heat of the moment she hadn’t realised that she was half-naked and surrounded by men – or maybe, in her state of undress, the idea of a police station seemed an attractive one. She sidled up to the young officer and rubbed her bare breast against his arm, giving him a lewd wink. Her shrill voice dropped about an octave and a half, and she said huskily, ‘Is tha’ an invitation, dearie?’
    I, and most of the policemen, laughed. This dirty, rain-soaked woman trying to play Delilah looked so ridiculous. But the funniest part of all was the young policeman’s reaction. He could not have been a day over nineteen, young enough to be her son. He looked pink and clean and high-minded. He glanced down at the substantial breast rubbing his arm and jumped like a scalded cat. We roared with laughter. All the faces watching at the windows must have been laughing too. The young man was covered with