Raine Geoghegan – Words

Charlie Chaplin
and the Gypsy Flower Seller

She stood outside the Bull in the Old Kent Road, the basket of flowers resting
on her hip. Her name was Rosalie, one of the Lees, a Romany family who
camped at the end of the lane. They went hop picking every September to Kent,
his brother Sydney went too. She liked tosing and she was jolly good. When she
saw him she’d say, ‘Ello Charlie boy, ‘ow yer doin, flowers fer yer ma is it’?
She knew that on pay day he’d buy his mother a bunch of carnations. She
always gave him a few extra and he used to stop and chat with her. Walking
home, clutching the flowers, he’d think of how Rosalie resembled Hetty, the girl
that got away. She had the same almond-shaped brown eyes, long lashes, and that
smile, just like Hetty. He courted her for a while when they were on the same bill
at the Streatham Empire and oh how she could dance and flash those lashes.

‘One day, I’ll make a film, I’ll ask Rosalie to play the part of Hetty. I’ll teach her
the craft of acting, how to look straight at the camera. She’d be perfect. I’d have to
think of a story, something that would make people laugh and cry but now I’ll get
home, parley with ma in the kitchen over a cup of char, tell her all about my plans
to be a filmmaker, how I’ll change the world. That’ll make her happy. I got to try
something. I got to lift her spirits somehow.’