Where the Heart Is

by Glenice Crossland

  Sally said, ‘When you start school there’ll be no more dawdling about over supper, so make the most of it while you can.’

  Usually on the day after Sunday school the kitchen walls and windows would be dripping with steam by the time Daisy came downstairs. The white clothes would be boiling in the copper and Sally would be bent over the washtub, scrubbing the coloureds on the rubbing board. The wringer would be waiting, with a bucket beneath it, and on the table would be a bowl of starch for the shirts and tablecloths and another containing dolly blue. When the coloureds were done, Jim’s stained working clothes would be given a scrub and hung away beneath the tree branches out of sight.

  This morning was different, though. When Daisy pattered down with Baby Doll under her arm, the table was laid for breakfast and Mam was toasting bread on the long-handled fork. On the table was a boiled egg with a face painted on it.

  ‘That’s your Easter egg.’ Sally smiled.

  ‘Can I save it?’ Daisy was delighted with the red cochineal-coloured egg with its painted black eyes and hair. It would be good to keep with her collection of leaves and pebbles.

  ‘No, you can eat it.’ Mam cut the toast into soldiers and sliced off the top of the egg, causing Daisy to start whining.

  ‘It’s no use crying. Besides, we shan’t go to the crags if you don’t eat your breakfast.’

  ‘What’s crags?’ At the mention of going somewhere Daisy had stopped crying.

  ‘You’ll know when we get there.’

  ‘Are our Norah and Pat going?’

  ‘Probably.’

  ‘Can I take Dippy with me?’

  ‘Yes, if you eat your breakfast.’

  ‘And Baby Doll?’

  ‘We’ll see.’

  Jim arrived then and Sally placed two more eggs in the pan, thinking how fortunate they were to have neighbours like the Firths whose parents sometimes had a glut of eggs and were willing to share them, especially now they had gone up in the shops to three shillings a dozen.

  Jim was carrying a rabbit by its tail. He and Bernard often went rabbiting over Longfield. Bernard had recently acquired a ferret and their expedition had obviously been a successful one. Sally thought it was a cruel carry-on, but with the rationing would have been a fool to refuse the extra meat. She did, however, put her foot down at having it in the house with its skin on.

  ‘Take it outside,’ she told her husband. ‘You know what happened with the last one.’

  Jim did remember; he had laid a hare on the wooden drainer before realising it was alive with fleas. They had been hopping all over the sink and curtains!

  ‘Get it out!’ Sally shooed him out of the house. He grinned as he hung the rabbit off the hook supporting the washing line.

  ‘By gum! That’s a beauty, Jim,’ called Tom Porter. ‘Tha must’ve been up wi’t lark this morning?’

  ‘Aye, Tom. It’s always the same after’t night shift, I can never sleep so I might just as well get up.’

  ‘Aye, it plays havoc wi’ the system. Still it seems a shame not to ’ave a lie in when tha gets a day’s holiday.’

  ‘Well, tha knows what they always say … yer die in bed. And I don’t think I’m ready for that just yet.’

  ‘I should ’ope not!’ Tom said, and made his way round to the lavatory, pulling on his flat cap as he disappeared round the corner.

  Jim cursed himself then as he realised that death was a subject best avoided so soon after the passing of Tom’s little daughter. He ought to apologise but wondered if that would just make things worse. He went in to breakfast, thankful for his own little girl who rushed to sit on his lap and urged him to hurry so they could go to the crags. Daisy showed him her painted egg shell. She would keep it anyway, even with the top chopped off.

  Jim hugged her close as he thought back to the time she had weighed a pathetic three and a quarter pounds, just after birth. Their worry over whether she would survive or not. He knew he was overprotective of her, but to be left in Tom Porter’s position must be a nightmare. He drank a pint pot full of tea and finished his toast. ‘Come on then!’ he said, throwing Daisy into the air and catching her as she squealed with delight. ‘Let’s get ready. It’s Easter Monday and there’ll be everybody and their grandmothers out for the day.’

  Daisy found Baby Doll’s bonnet and Dippy’s lead. She was ready for the crags, whatever they might be.

  When they came back, tired and aching from the long trek to the crags and back, Betty Hayes had made herself at home in her brother Jim’s front room. She quickly turned on the tears as they came in the door. Sally’s heart sank as she wondered if something had happened to her mother-in-law.

  ‘What’s up?’ Jim asked. ‘What’s happened, our Betty?’

  ‘I’ve left home, Jim. I can’t stand it any longer.’

  He frowned. ‘Why? What can’t you stand?’

  ‘Mam … going on at me all the time, telling me how wicked I am for having to get married. Now she’s on at me about the ironing and she knows how ill I feel.’ Jim thought his sister’s acting could have matched Vivien Leigh’s any day of the week, but Sally rushed to her sister-in-law’s side to comfort her.

  ‘Oh, Betty, your mother doesn’t mean it. It’s just that she’s not well at the moment, with her bad leg and that.’

  ‘Hmm! And THAT … it’s THAT she’s worried about! My being up the duff and what the neighbours think. Well, I don’t care a bugger what the neighbours think, I love Clarence and that’s all that matters.’

  But Betty didn’t love Clarence, and never had. Oh, she had liked the sex at first, the admiration in his eyes when she wore the pretty cami-knickers he’d bought her. And Clarence had been good in bed … better than the others. Not any more, though. Her becoming pregnant had put them both off. As for the baby, who needed a crying, smelly brat? Certainly not Betty. She turned on the tears again. ‘So I’ve come to stay here for a bit, just till I feel a bit better. The nurse said the sickness should go soon, then I’ll be all right.’

  ‘And what about Clarence?’ Jim’s expression was thunderous.

  ‘He won’t mind, he’ll be just as happy here with you as at Mam’s.’

  ‘No!’ her brother snapped. ‘We ’aven’t room, Betty.’

  ‘But you’ve only got our Daisy, can’t she go in with you for a while?’

  Betty turned on the tears again, so convincingly that Sally said, ‘It might be better, Jim. If it’s upsetting your mother, I mean. We could manage, just for a while.’

  Jim stormed out and set off in the direction of the Rising Sun, even though they had promised each other an early night. Besides, he didn’t usually drink at all when he had to be up for the morning shift.

  Sally took the kettle from where it was simmering over the fire and mashed some tea. Then she lifted Daisy from the sofa where she had fallen asleep as soon as Jim had laid her there. Sally put her back down again, uncertain where the child would be sleeping if Betty had taken up residence in the second bedroom. She swore under her breath. Where was her husband? He couldn’t just turn his back on this. More importantly, where was Clarence?

  Sally fetched cups and saucers from the cupboard and poured the tea. ‘Sorry, we’ve no milk left. I used it all in the picnic flask.’ Betty sniffed, pulling a face as she took a sip of black tea.

  ‘What happened to make you leave?’ Sally asked, for something to break the uncomfortable silence.

  ‘The ironing. Me mam told me if I wanted a clean blouse for work I’d better iron one, and that I must do my own ironing from now on. So I told her I didn’t want a work blouse because I wasn’t going to work any more. I handed in my notice last week.’

  ‘But why? The money would have helped – you must need loads of things for the baby, quite apart from what you’ll need when you get a home of your own.’

  ‘What, with fourteen thousand people on the housing list? Why kid ourselves? We haven’t a chance.’

  Sally frowned. ‘Well, we don’t have room for you p
ermanently.’

  ‘Oh, no, it’s only till I feel better, and till she comes round.’

  ‘She is your mother, Betty.’

  The girl blushed. ‘I know, but she’s so straight-laced. I am married, for God’s sake.’

  ‘Your mam’s not well, she shouldn’t be standing much with an ulcerated leg. You should be helping more. Well, you’ll be able to now if you’ve given up work. You would have found your wages handy, though, what with needing a pram and everything.’

  ‘Oh! I thought we could have yours … can’t we?’

  ‘No, I’m afraid not. We’re trying for another baby, and anyway my parents bought that pram, I couldn’t give it away.’

  ‘Oh, I only meant borrow it. I mean, my kid’ll have done with it by the time you need it.’

  ‘No, I’m sorry.’

  Betty burst into tears again. ‘Why is everybody being so mean? I can’t depend on anyone any more.’

  ‘You’ve got Clarence.’

  At this Betty Hayes wailed louder than ever, waking Daisy who began to cry too at the sight of Aunty Betty’s tears. Sally carried her upstairs and put her in the middle of her and Jim’s bed.

  ‘Can I sleep in here tonight then?’ Daisy’s tears disappeared as if by magic.

  ‘Just for tonight.’ Sally kissed her daughter goodnight and wished Jim or Clarence or anybody would come and sort things out because she certainly didn’t know what to do.

  When Jim did come home he took off his jacket and went straight upstairs, swearing silently when he found his daughter in the middle of the double bed. Sally followed him but he made no attempt to discuss the problem of Betty. He undressed and got in to his own side of the bed, with his back to Daisy.

  ‘What are we going to do?’ Sally attempted.

  ‘You’ve already done it. I told her she couldn’t stay, you should have backed me up.’

  ‘But I felt sorry for her, feeling ill, and I know how upset your mother’s been. She can’t be expected to cope with too much at her age. Not after the hard life she’s had.’

  ‘Sally, it isn’t our problem. It’s our Betty and Clarence’s. Besides, she isn’t ill – she’s pregnant and bone idle. Well, she needn’t think she’s living the life of Riley here because she isn’t! In fact, she isn’t living here at all, we’ve no room.’

  ‘I know. So what are we going to do?’

  ‘We’re going to get some sleep, I’ve to be up at five.’

  Sally attempted to hold his hand but he pulled it away. ‘Goodnight then,’ she said.

  She didn’t hear Betty come up to bed and spent the rest of the night worrying while listening to Jim snoring like a pig, as he always did after a couple of pints.

  ‘It’s only me.’

  Sally smiled to hear Mary Porter’s voice. This had been their usual morning routine in the days before the loss of Mary’s baby. Sally would sit for ten minutes chatting to her friend before beginning on the day’s work. Mary’s visit this morning was the first in weeks, a sure sign that she was getting back to normal.

  ‘Oh, well, that’s our Stanley organised for the day.’ Stanley had gone to his grandma’s. ‘He doesn’t know what to do with himself in the holidays.’

  ‘I know, our Daisy can’t wait to start school.’

  ‘Where is she?’

  ‘Still in bed.’

  ‘That’s unusual. She’s usually playing out before nine.’

  ‘She was up late, there was a bit of an upheaval.’

  ‘Oh! Is that why Jim was at the Sun? Tom said he was downing them a bit, with the morning shift to come.’

  ‘Yes, their Betty’s left home. She’s upstairs in our Daisy’s bed.’

  ‘Oh! And where’s that husband of hers? Fed up of her already?’

  ‘I’m not sure. I only know it’s causing trouble between Jim and me.’

  ‘She’ll cause trouble for anybody, you know that. She’s a wrong ’un, Sally, always has been. Tried it on with my Tom when she was no more’n fourteen.’

  ‘I didn’t know that.’

  ‘No, because I nipped it in the bud before it got properly started. Well, I know Tom likes to flirt a bit … in fact, he thinks he’s God’s gift to women sometimes … but even he would never stoop to kid chasing.’

  ‘What happened exactly?’ Sally could hardly believe what she was hearing.

  ‘It was when I was expecting our Stanley. Betty went to meet Tom outside the works, off the afternoon shift. Said she fancied older men, and would he like to go for a walk in the Donkey Wood? He told her it was time little girls like her were in bed. It happened three nights in a row! The other men were noticing by then so he came home and told me what was happening. The next night I went to meet him, casual like, after I had been to the chip shop. Betty began mouthing off at me, calling me a fat bitch, so I smacked her in the face with a parcel of cod and chips!’ Mary grinned at the memory.

  ‘Oh, Mary!’ Sally couldn’t help laughing. ‘I didn’t know about that. Why didn’t you tell me?’

  ‘It wasn’t your problem, love. Just like she isn’t your problem now, so send her packing.’

  ‘Yes, she’ll have to go. Anyway, we haven’t room.’

  ‘You certainly haven’t, and I know one thing for sure: if your Daisy’s in your bed every night, Jim’ll be the one to go. He’s like Tom, he needs his home comforts. Don’t let her drive him to the pub, ’cos that’ll be what happens.’

  Daisy came running in then, Baby Doll under her arm.

  ‘Where’s your slippers? You shouldn’t be on the cold lino with bare feet.’

  ‘In my bedroom, but Aunty Betty’s in there. She told me to go away because she’s tired.’

  Mary raised her eyebrows. ‘There you are, she’s taking over already.’

  Sally frowned. ‘I’m mashing again, do you want another cup?’

  ‘Hmm, the cup that cheers, my mother always says, and you really need cheering this morning, my love.’

  Sally smiled, but it was a forced smile. Then she realised how much better Mary seemed. That was one consolation among all the upset. Sally had her friend back at last, and just when she needed her. She made Daisy some jam sandwiches and as a special treat brought out the digestives. Mary’s return was worth celebrating.

  ‘Are we having biscuits for breakfast today?’ Daisy enquired.

  ‘Aye, just for today.’ Sally grinned.

  When Mary had gone, Sally dressed Daisy and took her over to grandma Butler’s. Amy was sitting on the window ledge, cleaning the outside of the bedroom window.

  ‘Don’t fall, Grandma,’ Daisy called worriedly.

  ‘What on earth are you doing?’ Sally called up to her. ‘The window cleaner only came last week.’

  ‘Aye, it’s Charlie Firth’s pigeons. Bird muck all down the winders. I couldn’t leave ’em like that.’

  ‘Get down, I’ll do it for you,’ Sally offered.

  ‘Nay, lass, it’s done now.’

  But Sally went upstairs and carried down the bucket of water for her. Amy hobbled downstairs, left foot first all the way down.

  ‘How’s your leg today?’

  ‘Oh, me leg’s a lot better. That new salve Dr Sellars gave me seems to be drying it up a bit. It’s me mind that’s ailing me this morning.’

  ‘Due to Betty, no doubt. You know she’s at our house?’

  ‘Oh, thank God for that. The way she stormed out, I didn’t know what had become of her.’

  ‘She can’t stay, we haven’t room.’

  ‘And even if you ’ad, I shouldn’t imagine you’d want ’er.’

  Sally felt her face grow hot. She couldn’t lie, she wasn’t good at it. ‘No, I admit we don’t. I know she’s Jim’s sister but we really want to be on our own.’

  ‘Of course yer do, it’s only natural.’ Amy turned to Daisy who was sitting patiently on the pegged rug. ‘Do yer want to sort out my button box?’ Daisy’s eyes sparkled. Grandma’s button box was Daisy’s favourite thing in the whole
world. She emptied the box on to the red plush tablecloth and began finding buttons that matched. Grandma broke off some lengths of cotton for Daisy to thread them on. There were mother-of-pearl buttons, tiny cloth-covered shirt buttons, glass buttons, and pretty buttons off dresses and blouses, saved for more years than Amy cared to remember. She could tell Daisy who she had danced with while wearing a blue dress adorned with tiny blue and silver buttons, and which buttons were off the green coat she had worn for her honeymoon in Southport.

  There were not only buttons but hatpins, too. One had a pearl on the end, and there was a brown shiny one which Grandma said was made of amber. Then there was the silver spiral one that was Daisy’s favourite. There was also a button hook and a number of shoe buttons from shoes and boots worn by Aunty Betty and Grandma, as well as some thimbles, one with a picture of Queen Mary and King George on it. Daisy was so enthralled rummaging among them that she forgot to listen to the conversation going on over her head.

  ‘She’ll ’ave to come home, what will folk think? They’ll say I’ve turned ’er out, me own daughter. I wouldn’t do that, no matter what.’

  ‘It doesn’t matter what folk think, that’s not important.’

  ‘It is to me.’

  ‘Still, you’re right, she’ll have to come home. And she’s got to pull her weight. She can’t just sit there while you do all the work. I’ll go tell her now.’

  ‘She won’t like it.’

  ‘Then she’ll just have to lump it! If it’s going to cause trouble between Jim and me, she can’t stay.’

  ‘Quite right, lass. Where’s that husband of hers got to?’

  ‘I’ve no idea. Come on, Daisy, put the buttons back in the box.’