‘My Bert would like to take them down a peg or two. Trouble is, that’s what they want.’
‘Yer, the buggers,’ nodded Ted Shiner, coming up and sticking out his big chest. At over six foot he was well muscled and took after his grandmother, Fat Freda. For years they had
run the fruit and veg pitch, and Lily knew Ted had cause to dislike the Blackshirts as he’d got in an argument down the Quarry with them once. He’d come off worst, as they’d made
him look daft with their clever words and knowledge of politics. It was an occasion that he’d never forgotten.
‘Why don’t the rozzers move ’em off, that’s what I’d like to know,’ said Reube standing beside Ted and throwing black looks at the noisy bunch.
‘’Cos they’d prefer to pick on an easy touch,’ replied Vera angrily. ‘Like some poor sod who’s got a bit merry and can’t find his way home.’
‘You’re not wrong there,’ agreed Florrie.
Lily hadn’t seen these men before, and she found them frightening. They shook their clenched fists and shouted ferociously. They were telling everyone that the Great Depression was a
result of the country’s management and the people should rise up against the restraints of the government.
Not content with keeping to their group, several of the dark-clothed men began to infiltrate the market. They approached the stalls and pushed their way through the crowd, handing out pamphlets.
People took them because they were too scared not to. When one of them came over, he made his way towards Lily. Smiling unpleasantly at her, he waved a paper in her face.
‘Read this and learn how to throw off the shackles of your imprisonment,’ he yelled at her.
Lily shook her head. ‘I ain’t in prison and I’m trying to get on with me work.’
‘You are ignorant of the way you’re being used,’ he boomed back. ‘Join us sister, and we’ll show you the way to freedom.’
‘I ain’t your sister,’ Lily replied, recoiling.
‘Leave her alone!’ Reube was beside her, poking the man in the shoulder. ‘Get orf, you bloody troublemaker. Can’t you see you’re losing us business?’
The Blackshirt began to shout at Reube and Ted came running up.
‘What do yer want round here?’ he demanded, waving his big fist. ‘Clear orf, the lot of you!’
But soon Mosley’s men had descended on them. One man pushed Reube who fell back on the stall. All the articles went flying. The china cups and saucers broke on the cobbles. There was
shouting and yelling and Lily’s wrist was grabbed by one of the Blackshirts. She tried to wriggle free but he wouldn’t let go.
She was so afraid she felt faint. She knew she should take the paper just to satisfy him. Then she saw Reube on the ground, with a man punching him. Ted was trying to drag him off whilst Florrie
and Vera were screaming.
Suddenly a figure appeared at her side. She looked up to see Charles Grey. Staring at the man who held her, he said quietly but threateningly, ‘You and your friends should leave before the
police arrive.’ He snatched the paper from the man’s hand and tore it in half. ‘Your leader won’t be too impressed to know that your antics here will cause him a great deal
of embarrassment. I believe he is conjuring hopes for a New Party?’ At these words, the man froze. ‘Go back to Mosley and tell him he has not yet penetrated the East End. Nor ever will
whilst you act like ignorant thugs.’
The man glared at him, joined by his companion who had disengaged himself from the fight. One by one they slunk off, casting disgruntled frowns over their shoulders. The market people began to
jeer them. As Reube rubbed his jaw, Charles Grey helped him to his feet.
‘The buggers,’ Reube growled, raising his own fist to the departing group. ‘Don’t you show yer ugly mugs round here again.’
‘I’m afraid they might,’ said Charles Grey.
‘Well, they’ll find us waiting next time,’ said Reube angrily. ‘Look what they
‘Yer, the buggers,’ nodded Ted Shiner, coming up and sticking out his big chest. At over six foot he was well muscled and took after his grandmother, Fat Freda. For years they had
run the fruit and veg pitch, and Lily knew Ted had cause to dislike the Blackshirts as he’d got in an argument down the Quarry with them once. He’d come off worst, as they’d made
him look daft with their clever words and knowledge of politics. It was an occasion that he’d never forgotten.
‘Why don’t the rozzers move ’em off, that’s what I’d like to know,’ said Reube standing beside Ted and throwing black looks at the noisy bunch.
‘’Cos they’d prefer to pick on an easy touch,’ replied Vera angrily. ‘Like some poor sod who’s got a bit merry and can’t find his way home.’
‘You’re not wrong there,’ agreed Florrie.
Lily hadn’t seen these men before, and she found them frightening. They shook their clenched fists and shouted ferociously. They were telling everyone that the Great Depression was a
result of the country’s management and the people should rise up against the restraints of the government.
Not content with keeping to their group, several of the dark-clothed men began to infiltrate the market. They approached the stalls and pushed their way through the crowd, handing out pamphlets.
People took them because they were too scared not to. When one of them came over, he made his way towards Lily. Smiling unpleasantly at her, he waved a paper in her face.
‘Read this and learn how to throw off the shackles of your imprisonment,’ he yelled at her.
Lily shook her head. ‘I ain’t in prison and I’m trying to get on with me work.’
‘You are ignorant of the way you’re being used,’ he boomed back. ‘Join us sister, and we’ll show you the way to freedom.’
‘I ain’t your sister,’ Lily replied, recoiling.
‘Leave her alone!’ Reube was beside her, poking the man in the shoulder. ‘Get orf, you bloody troublemaker. Can’t you see you’re losing us business?’
The Blackshirt began to shout at Reube and Ted came running up.
‘What do yer want round here?’ he demanded, waving his big fist. ‘Clear orf, the lot of you!’
But soon Mosley’s men had descended on them. One man pushed Reube who fell back on the stall. All the articles went flying. The china cups and saucers broke on the cobbles. There was
shouting and yelling and Lily’s wrist was grabbed by one of the Blackshirts. She tried to wriggle free but he wouldn’t let go.
She was so afraid she felt faint. She knew she should take the paper just to satisfy him. Then she saw Reube on the ground, with a man punching him. Ted was trying to drag him off whilst Florrie
and Vera were screaming.
Suddenly a figure appeared at her side. She looked up to see Charles Grey. Staring at the man who held her, he said quietly but threateningly, ‘You and your friends should leave before the
police arrive.’ He snatched the paper from the man’s hand and tore it in half. ‘Your leader won’t be too impressed to know that your antics here will cause him a great deal
of embarrassment. I believe he is conjuring hopes for a New Party?’ At these words, the man froze. ‘Go back to Mosley and tell him he has not yet penetrated the East End. Nor ever will
whilst you act like ignorant thugs.’
The man glared at him, joined by his companion who had disengaged himself from the fight. One by one they slunk off, casting disgruntled frowns over their shoulders. The market people began to
jeer them. As Reube rubbed his jaw, Charles Grey helped him to his feet.
‘The buggers,’ Reube growled, raising his own fist to the departing group. ‘Don’t you show yer ugly mugs round here again.’
‘I’m afraid they might,’ said Charles Grey.
‘Well, they’ll find us waiting next time,’ said Reube angrily. ‘Look what they
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