The Bells of Bow

by Gilda O'Neill

  ‘I feel sick.’ Babs stared at the dull red lino; her head was swimming.

  Evie nodded towards Babs. ‘Why don’t yer give her a chance, Harry, eh?’ she urged him, flashing her best smile.

  ‘Leave me alone, the pair of yer.’ Harry stood up and walked out, slamming the street door behind him.

  ‘Now look what yer’ve done,’ Babs sobbed and ran upstairs to the bedroom.

  Georgie didn’t turn to face Evie when he spoke; he didn’t trust himself to. He just said quietly, ‘Go up to her. See if yer can make up for some of the trouble yer’ve caused her.’

  ‘I ain’t had no sleep since yesterday,’ she complained, and dragged herself up the stairs.

  She went in the bedroom. Babs was sprawled out on the unmade bed sobbing. Quietly Evie sat down next to her.

  ‘I’ve got something to say, Babs,’ she began. ‘And I want yer to listen to me.’ She took a deep breath. ‘I ain’t cut out for this motherhood lark. You have to understand that. Well, yer don’t have to, but I’d like yer to. I love Betty, course I do, but like a little sister, not like she was me own child. I’m gonna marry Ray whatever anyone says. No one’s gonna stand in me way, not even Betty.’

  Babs was still sobbing, her face buried in the pillow.

  ‘I know you love her different to how I ever could. I just can’t feel that way for her. I dunno. You’re the one who’s been bringing her up, I just never got attached to her in the same way that you did.’ She went over to the dressing table and searched through the top drawer for a packet of cigarettes. She tapped one on the back of her hand and then lit it. ‘Don’t hate me, Babs.’

  Babs pulled herself up and sat on the edge of the bed. ‘How could you even think of leaving her behind, Eve? Tell me. I love Betty and I can’t bear the thought of yer taking her away from me, but she’s yours, Eve. Your child.’ She shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts. ‘I can’t believe yer saying these things.’

  Evie inhaled deeply on her cigarette and slowly blew the smoke from her nostrils. ‘And I can’t believe how much I love Ray. The thought of him going back to America without me, I can’t stand it.’

  ‘Why can’t you take Betty with yer?’

  ‘No. I can’t. I’m going to start again. Forget all this.’

  ‘Forget? Listen to me, Eve, yer know I’d keep her, willingly. I love her more than I can explain. But you’re her mother. You’d regret it for the rest of yer life.’

  ‘You reckon, do yer?’

  ‘Yeah. Think of what Mum did to us. How we felt when she run off with that bloke.’

  Evie shook her head slowly. ‘Don’t try and make me feel guilty, Babs.’

  ‘Look, don’t you get the feeling, the feeling that yer there to protect her and that yer’d do anything, give up everything for her?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘No? Just no?’

  ‘I wanna make something of meself.’

  Babs wiped her eyes on her sleeve. ‘You’ll never learn, will yer, Eve? They were dreams we had as kids at the pictures. It’s not real. No one really comes along and sweeps yer off yer feet.’

  Evie ground out the cigarette in the glass tray on the dressing table. ‘I wasn’t cut out to have kids, Babs, and that’s that.’

  ‘That’s that? But you’ve had her now, she’s a living, breathing child.’

  ‘Babs, don’t. Don’t do this to me.’

  ‘Don’t do this to you? How about me? How about my problems? How about Betty? And Dad?’

  Evie looked at her lap and shrugged. ‘I don’t care, Babs. I don’t care about no one and nothing but being with Ray. And I don’t care how long it takes to get all this sorted out, but I’m going with him. I’m gonna marry him and be his wife in America. And I’m sorry if it don’t suit yer, but that’s all there is to it.’

  36

  It was three o’clock in the afternoon, and Maudie was in number six, sitting at the table in the front room with the Bell family, looking at the remains of the Christmas dinner. But it could hardly have been called a celebration meal, as the food had hardly been touched. Since Evie had made her announcement in October about marrying Ray and going off to America, things had gone from bad to worse, and now the atmosphere in the house was so tense that practically every time the twins spoke to each other, yet another row began.

  Maud was doing her best to make some sort of conversation but she was running out of topics.

  ‘Have you heard the news about Terry Simpkins?’ she asked. ‘It looks as if he might be called up soon. Blanche is really worried. She says it’s bad enough having Mary fretting over Micky being in the army, without having something else to worry about.’

  ‘She should think herself lucky if that’s all she’s got to worry about,’ said Evie, pushing the Brussels sprouts round her plate with her knife. She sighed dramatically. ‘Christmas! I should be happy, not miserable like this. Just because I’ve got the pluck to try and better meself, none of yer can stand it, can yer? None of yer. And you all want me to be miserable.’

  Georgie got up and threw some more wood on the fire. ‘You’re not the only one who’s suffering, Eve,’ he said.

  ‘Yeah,’ agreed Babs. ‘How about me?’

  ‘Aw gawd,’ wailed Eve. ‘You ain’t still going on about that Harry Taylor, are yer?’

  Babs didn’t answer her twin, instead she looked at Maudie. ‘I’ve been thinking about joining the Land Army, Maud.’

  ‘Oh,’ said Maudie, defeated in her search for a more suitable reply.

  Evie didn’t have that problem. ‘Don’t talk so stupid,’ she sneered. ‘What would you do in the Land Army? I can just see yer milking cows and making hay. I know what your game is, yer just saying that so yer can get out of having Betty ’cos yer think it’ll stop me going to America with Ray. Yer pathetic, all of yer.’

  Betty watched Evie run out of the room and go stomping up the stairs. ‘Evie’s cross,’ she said, her eyes wide and serious. She clambered down from the table, sat on the mat in front of the fire, and proudly showed Flash the dolly that Maudie had given her for her Christmas present.

  Georgie rubbed his hands over his face. ‘It ain’t right,’ he said, ‘that baby keep hearing all these rows.’

  Maudie stood up and began stacking the plates. ‘Come on, George. Help me with the washing up.’

  Babs stood up to help.

  ‘No, Babs,’ Maudie said. ‘It’s all right, you sit down. We can do it. It was a lovely meal. Thank you.’

  In the kitchen, Maudie put the dirty plates on the table, took down the apron from the hook behind the door and put it on over her dress. ‘I want to speak to you, George,’ she said. ‘And I want you to listen to me without getting yourself all upset. All right?’

  ‘All right.’

  ‘Things aren’t always straightforward, George.’ She filled the kettle at the sink.

  ‘You don’t have to tell me that, ‘I live with them two, remember.’

  ‘Some women just can’t feel motherly towards a child. And you mustn’t blame Evie for being like that. I’m sure that there are reasons for the way she’s acting with Betty, and I’m also sure that she wished she knew what they were. But try not to judge her, George. She really is suffering. Anyone can see that.’

  Georgie scraped the leftovers onto an enamel plate and whistled for Flash to come and get the scraps. The dog came lolloping into the kitchen. Georgie opened the back door to put the food down for her in the yard. A bitter wind whipped round his legs. He shivered. ‘That snow’s falling again.’ He pulled Flash back inside and put her plate down in the corner. ‘Yer might as well eat it in here, girl,’ he said, running his hand down the dog’s silky back. ‘No point us all suffering.’

  ‘You’re right, George,’ Maudie said, lifting the kettle from the stove and filling the bowl. ‘There isn’t. There’s enough suffering in this world without us adding to it. And, especially at a time like this, we should all try and make the best of things. Try and make som
ething good out of what could so easily turn sour.’

  Georgie handed Maud the plates.

  ‘We have to grab happiness where we can, George. Surely that’s something that these terrible wars have taught us. Surely.’

  Georgie took his tobacco from his pocket and rolled himself a cigarette. ‘I know you’ve always had a soft spot for my girls, Maud, but I don’t know how yer can keep yer temper with ’em lately. I feel like I could strangle the pair of ’em.’

  Maud smiled at him over her shoulder. ‘You wouldn’t be human if you didn’t. But why don’t you give them a chance? They’ve had a hard time, George. They’ve grown up without a mother, and lived through this war when they should have been young and fancy free.’

  Babs coughed. She was standing in the kitchen doorway with Betty. ‘I thought I’d go up to see if Evie’s all right. I brought Betty in here ’cos I didn’t wanna leave her with the fire.’

  Georgie held out his arms to his little granddaughter. ‘You’ll be all right with us, won’t yer, babe?’

  Upstairs in the front bedroom, Babs found Evie sprawled across the bed, crying bitterly into the pillow.

  Babs sat down next to her and gently stroked her hair. ‘I’ve never had it from yer straight, Evie, but Albie used to hit yer didn’t he?’

  She pushed Babs’s hand away. ‘Leave me alone, I don’t wanna talk about the no-good bastard. I wouldn’t be in this mess now if it wasn’t for him.’

  ‘I know,’ Babs soothed her. ‘I know. But he did, didn’t he? When yer used to make up them stories about how yer hurt yerself, that was him doing it to yer all the time, wasn’t it?’

  Evie sat up. ‘Yeah.’ She looked at Babs, her lovely face blotchy from weeping. ‘I was a mug and I let the useless, bullying bastard belt the living daylights out of me. Satisfied?’

  ‘I ain’t having a go at yer, Eve, I’m trying to understand.’ Babs looked down at her hands. ‘Maybe if Betty hadn’t been Albie’s?’

  A great, gulping, shuddering sob racked Evie’s body. ‘I’ve wondered that. Maybe if she hadn’t have been anything to do with him, then I could have felt different about her. Closer.’ She licked away the tears that were trickling into her mouth. ‘I meant it when I said I love her, yer know, Babs. I really do, but not like, not like a mum should.’ The tears ran faster down her cheeks. ‘Babs.’

  ‘Yeah?’ She dabbed at Evie’s face with her hankie.

  ‘D’yer think I’ve taken after Mum and that I’m just no good?’

  Babs wrapped her arms round her twin and held her close. ‘Course I don’t, daft. How could I ever think that?’

  Evie shuddered again and then said quietly, ‘Once, while I was carrying her, I can’t remember how many months I was, anyway, he hit me in the stomach. I felt sure that I was gonna lose her. I had these terrible pains. And I was so scared, Babs, ’cos I didn’t wanna lose her. I loved her, even before she was born.’ She threw back her head. ‘But not in the way I was supposed to. What’s wrong with me, Babs? Why can’t I love her like I should?’

  ‘Ssshhh, don’t upset yerself, we all have to love in our own way, Evie. We can’t all be the same.’

  ‘Ray loves me, Babs.’

  ‘I know. I know.’ Babs rocked her gently, trying to still her tears. ‘Maybe I should meet him, eh,’ she said. ‘I mean, he must be really special if he loves a scatty cow like you, Evie Bell.’

  Evie leant back. She was trying to smile through her tears. ‘D’yer mean it? Yer’d really like to meet him?’

  ‘Yeah, course I would.’

  Evie hugged her tight. ‘Aw, Babs, I can’t tell yer what it’d mean to me.’

  ‘But I ain’t making no promises about nothing else.’

  They both knew that she meant about caring for Betty but neither of them said it; they knew it would only reopen the wound that they had just that moment healed. Any decisions about Betty’s future would have to wait.

  Evie blew her nose loudly and stood up. ‘Come on, let’s go down and have a drink to celebrate. It is meant to be Christmas after all.’

  Babs nodded. ‘You go and pour ’em out and I’ll follow yer down in a minute.’

  She sat on the end of the bed and listened to Evie calling excitedly to Maud and Georgie to go in the front room and have a drink with her.

  Babs looked at herself in the dressing table mirror and sighed. ‘You might as well have a life, Eve,’ she said to her reflection as she got up to join them. ‘Why should both of us be unhappy?’

  George led Maudie and Betty into the front room.

  ‘Yer’ve cheered up,’ he said, sitting in one of the armchairs and lifting Betty onto his knee.

  Evie’s hand was shaking as she took out the bottle of champagne from the sideboard. She handed it to Georgie. ‘Ray gave me this for us to have today but I didn’t feel much like drinking it. But I do now. Babs said she wants to meet him.’

  ‘Good idea,’ Georgie said, putting Betty down and glancing over to Maud, who gave him an encouraging nod. ‘I was thinking, perhaps you should bring this Ray feller to see us. So we can all meet him. Proper like.’ He stood up and looked quizzically at the champagne bottle, not at all sure how to tackle opening it.

  Maud took it from him. ‘Let me.’ She smiled at Evie. ‘I’ve done this before.’

  Georgie frowned. ‘Have yer?’

  Maudie didn’t answer him, she bent down to get the glasses from the sideboard.

  Evie walked over to her dad. She had to bite her lip to stop herself from crying again. ‘I love you, Dad. D’yer know that?’

  ‘I know.’

  ‘I ain’t always been the best of daughters, but I usually mean well.’

  ‘There’s an admission,’ said Babs as she walked in. ‘You usually mean well.’

  ‘We can’t all be flipping angels,’ Evie laughed as she turned to face her. ‘Now, how about if I write to Ray and say that me and you wanna go down to Essex to see him, on one of his evening passes? And when we’re down there we can make arrangements for him to come up on his next long pass to see Dad and Maud. Furlough, they call it.’

  ‘That’s nice,’ said Maud, obviously delighted to be included as part of the family. ‘I’d enjoy meeting him.’

  ‘But warn him not to expect too much of a welcome,’ said Georgie, watching Maud as she lifted the wire cage off the top of the champagne bottle. ‘He’ll have to take us as he finds us. We ain’t used to stuff like this every day in Darnfield Street.’

  Maud pulled the cork from the bottle with a loud pop and poured the foaming wine into the glasses.

  Evie was grinning from ear to ear. ‘Don’t worry, Dad, he loves warm brown ale. He thinks it’s really English and neat.’

  ‘Happy Christmas,’ said Maud, raising her glass.

  ‘Christmas!’ shouted Betty happily and threw herself at Babs who picked her up in her arms, kissed her, then put her down again.

  George sat in his armchair and Betty scrambled onto his lap. ‘Come on, girls,’ he said, jiggling Betty up and down on his knee. ‘Why don’t you two give us a little song.’

  Babs shook her head. She wanted to be happy for Evie, but she couldn’t get her own unhappiness out of her mind. She’d lost Harry, that was all there was to it. She knew that she wouldn’t be able to sing without bursting into tears. ‘I’ve got a bit of a sore throat, Dad,’ she said quietly.

  Georgie frowned. ‘You are looking a bit pale. Here, I hope you ain’t got that ’flu what’s going round.’

  ‘No, it’s nothing. Just a bit off colour.’

  ‘Well, I’ll have to do a solo then, won’t I?’ Evie said.

  Georgie laughed. ‘Yer might be a twin, but yer’ve been like a solo act most of yer life, you.’

  Evie put her glass on the sideboard, curtseyed and then began singing, ‘I’m dreaming of a white Christmas …’

  That was as far as she had got when Babs stood up, mumbled her excuses about feeling unwell and ran upstairs to the bedroom.

  I
t was the first week of January 1945 and Evie and Babs were getting ready for the journey down to Essex to meet Ray. Georgie was fussing about Babs’s health, fretting about them travelling in the snow and ice and worrying himself sick about them being out at all when the V-2 rockets were coming more frequently than ever.

  ‘Look, Dad,’ Evie said, sticking her pin through the crown of her hat, ‘there might be ’flu, bombs, six years of war, even earthquakes coming for all we know, but I promise yer, I couldn’t be happier than I am today. Please don’t spoil it with all yer nagging.’

  ‘I ain’t nagging,’ he said solemnly. ‘I’m just concerned, that’s all. I’m allowed, I’m yer dad.’

  Evie kissed him on the cheek.

  ‘Yer both look a picture,’ he said. ‘I’m proud of the pair of yer.’

  Babs kissed him on the other cheek and then opened the street door.

  Georgie and Betty stood on the step waving goodbye until the cold drove them back indoors.

  As the sisters reached the end of the Darnfield Street, Babs stopped dead. ‘That’s Harry,’ she said, pointing to a figure walking briskly along Grove Road towards them.

  ‘Come on. I ain’t hanging around,’ Evie insisted, grabbing her arm. ‘We ain’t got time for this, Babs. D’you wanna come with me to meet Ray or not?’

  Babs pulled away. ‘I’ve gotta talk to him, Eve. I can’t just walk past him.’

  Evie tutted impatiently. ‘I’ll wait at the corner of Burdett Road for ten minutes, then I’m off or I’ll miss me connections from Mile End,’ she said and strode off as quickly as she was able in high heels in the snow.

  Harry ignored Evie as she passed him by; his eyes were fixed on Babs. He stopped in front of her. ‘Hello, Babs.’

  Babs smiled shyly. ‘The leg looks like it’s mending. How’s it coming along?’

  ‘It’s a lot better, ta. I should be fit enough for work again soon, I reckon. Probably not good enough to go abroad again for a while, but I’m getting there.’

  ‘That’s good, Harry, I’m really pleased for yer,’ she said.

  They stood there in the snow, not noticing the cold, just looking at one another.