Time Goes By

by Margaret Thornton

  ‘No, you can’t! She’s already in her bed.’ Shirley gave her a push, not a hard one, but one that showed she was annoyed with her little sister. ‘Go away, Brenda. You’re a nuisance! Mummy says you haven’t to play with my house. You’re only a baby and you’ll mess it up.’

  Brenda’s face crumpled and she looked as though she was going to cry. ‘Not a baby!’ she protested. ‘I only want to help.’

  ‘Oh, go on, let her,’ said Kathy. She felt sorry for the little girl. She was such a sweet little thing, with wispy blonde hair the same colour as Shirley’s plaits, and big blue eyes that were filling up with tears. ‘She can’t mess it up if we’re here, can she?’ Kathy thought how nice it would be to have a little sister like Brenda. Probably she could be a pest at times, but Kathy knew she would love her very much if she were her sister. And she was sure that Shirley did love her, really.

  ‘Oh, all right, then,’ said Shirley. ‘Stop crying, Brenda. Don’t be such a baby! Here, you can hold Jemima.’

  That pacified the little girl and they all played happily together, until the next interruption. That was when Graham came into the room followed rapidly by his mother.

  ‘Graham, how many times have I told you to take off your football boots before you come in the house. Just look at the state of you! Now there’s mud all over the carpet! Go and get them off at once, and put your football things in the washing basket. Honestly! Whatever am I going to do with you?’

  ‘OK, Mum,’ said Graham, quite casually. ‘It’s only dried mud; it’ll brush off. Keep your hair on!’

  ‘And don’t be cheeky,’ said Mrs Morris, although she was smiling and so was Graham.

  ‘He’s a pest,’ observed Shirley when he had left the room. ‘Mum’s always telling him about his football boots and stuff … But it goes in one ear and out of the other,’ she added, in an old-fashioned way. ‘I bet you’re glad you’ve not got a big brother, Kathy. He drives me potty!’

  Kathy didn’t answer that remark. She was thinking it would be rather nice to have an older brother, just as she had thought, earlier, that she would like to have a little sister, or even a big sister.

  Graham came back into the room a few minutes later and flopped into a chair with his Dandy comic.

  ‘D’you want to come and play with us, Graham?’ invited Brenda. ‘I ’spect Shirley’ll let you.’ But her remark was greeted with scorn.

  ‘Huh! Girls’ stuff!’ he sneered. ‘No thanks! Anyway, shouldn’t you be helping Mum to set the table, Shirl?’ It was her job, sometimes, to put the cloth on the table and set out the cups and saucers.

  ‘Why should I?’ Shirley retorted. ‘Why should it always be me? Why can’t you do it?’

  ‘Because I’m a boy, that’s why,’ replied her brother. ‘It’s women’s work, cooking an’ cleaning an’ washing up an’ all that stuff. That’s what Dad says. And it’s girls that have to help.’

  Kathy gathered that Graham didn’t reckon much to girls. He hadn’t even said hello to her, although he knew she was there. Aunty Win said he was a lovely boy and so nice-looking too. But she had only seen him on a Sunday, dressed in his choir clothes and looking angelic. She didn’t know what he was like the rest of the time. Kathy realised, though, that he might be considered handsome, like princes always were in fairy tales. He was dark-haired, not fair like his sisters, and he had brown eyes with a roguish gleam. Like his dad, Kathy realised later when Mr Morris came in from work.

  She had seen Shirley’s dad before, but at the other times when she had been there for tea, the children and Mrs Morris had had their tea first – a sandwich tea followed by home-made cakes – whilst Mr Morris had had a cooked meal prepared specially for him. Today, though, they all sat down together to a meal of sausages and chips with baked beans. Kathy thought it was delicious. They didn’t often have sausages and baked beans at home. Her father, and her aunt as well, were used to cooking rather different meals for the visitors, such as roast meat and two veg, and sausages were usually cooked as ‘toad-in-the-hole’ which she didn’t like very much. Baked beans, too, were frowned upon, except occasionally in an emergency, as Kathy’s dad reckoned nothing to ‘eating out of tins’. And there was HP sauce, as well. She noticed that Shirley and Graham and Mr Morris put on great dollops of it. Kathy loved it, but was not often allowed it, although it was always put on the visitors’ tables for them to have with their bacon and eggs.

  ‘Nice to have you with us, Kathy,’ said Mr Morris, giving her a friendly wink which made her feel shy. She smiled back, feeling her cheeks turning pink. ‘Special tea an’ all because you’re here,’ he went on. ‘Don’t tell anyone, but we usually have bread and dripping.’

  Kathy knew that was not true and she laughed a little uncertainly. Her own dad didn’t often crack jokes or talk very much at all at mealtimes, but Shirley’s dad was full of fun. She wondered if he was always like that.

  ‘Take no notice of him, Kathy love,’ said Mrs Morris. ‘He’s a terrible tease. He knows very well he has a cooked meal every night, don’t you, Frank? The children and I have ours at dinner time when they come home from school.’

  ‘Yes, I know that, Mrs Morris,’ said Kathy quietly. ‘I know he’s … er … only joking. I have my dinner at dinner time too. But this is lovely,’ she added.

  ‘Aye, take no notice of me, love,’ said Mr Morris. ‘My missus looks after me real well, don’t you, Sadie love?’

  ‘Kathy’s dad does the cooking in their house,’ chimed in Shirley. ‘Doesn’t he, Kathy?’

  ‘Well … yes,’ replied Kathy. ‘A lot of the time he does. But that’s only because—’

  ‘Aye, it’s because they’ve got a boarding house, isn’t that right, Kathy?’ said Mr Morris. ‘It’s Mr Leigh’s job; that’s why he does the cooking.’

  ‘Yes … he’s a chef,’ said Kathy in a little voice.

  ‘A chef … aye, real posh that, isn’t it? Like I said, it’s his job. You wouldn’t catch me in the kitchen. Not on your life!’ Mr Morris grinned at his wife. ‘Anyroad, my missus enjoys cooking, don’t you, Sadie love?’

  ‘I don’t suppose I’ve got much choice,’ said Mrs Morris with a sigh. But she was smiling. ‘I don’t mind a bit of help, though, sometimes.’

  ‘Well, you’ve got a daughter to help out, haven’t you? And soon there’ll be two of ’em,’ said Mr Morris beckoning towards little Brenda. ‘I don’t reckon you’re so badly off, love.’

  Mrs Morris didn’t answer. ‘Now then, who’s for pudding?’ she said, a few moments later, getting up to collect the dirty plates.

  ‘Do you need to ask?’ replied her husband. ‘All of us!’

  ‘Yes … please,’ added Kathy politely.

  Pudding was big pear halves – out of a tin, Kathy guessed – with lots of evaporated milk. Once again, it was delicious and a lovely treat.

  When they had finished their meal Mrs Morris cleared the table. Kathy noticed that Shirley was helping, and so she did her bit too, carrying her own pots into the kitchen; she was used to helping Aunty Win at home. She noticed that Mr Morris and Graham got up from the table and sat down in the easy chairs, Mr Morris with the evening paper and Graham with his Dandy. But then her own dad did that as well. He didn’t mind cooking – in fact he enjoyed it – but he wasn’t all that keen on washing up.

  ‘Thank you …’ Mrs Morris smiled at the two little girls. ‘A little help is worth a lot of pity.’

  ‘My aunty says that,’ Kathy told her.

  Mrs Morris laughed. ‘Yes, I daresay it’s a common saying amongst us womenfolk. Anyway, off you go, you two. I’ll soon have this lot cleared away, and then perhaps we can have a game or two – Ludo or Snakes and Ladders – before Kathy goes home. Can you find them, Shirley? They’re in the sideboard drawer.’

  ‘Oh, here’s the tiddlywinks as well,’ said Shirley, rooting in the drawer. ‘Goody! Let’s have a go at that, shall we, while we’re waiting for Mummy to finish washing up.’

  Mrs Morris had
put a velvety cloth over the table when it had been cleared. There was one just like it at Kathy’s home, except that theirs was brown and this one was red.

  ‘We need a flat surface,’ said Shirley, ‘or the tiddlywinks won’t jump. I know; we’ll use the Ludo board … Are you going to have a game with us, Graham?’

  ‘What, tiddlywinks?’ scoffed her brother. ‘No thanks; that’s kid’s stuff.’ He turned back to the doings of Desperate Dan.

  ‘Can I play?’ begged Brenda, running in from the kitchen where she had been watching her mother. ‘Let me, please let me!’

  ‘All right, then,’ agreed Shirley. ‘See, kneel up on the chair, then you can reach.’

  Kathy thought the little girl was so appealing, shouting out in delight every time one of her tiddlywinks jumped into the pot. There were shouts of ‘Shut up!’ though, from her brother, and even Mr Morris winced a little at her piercing voice.

  ‘Now then, that’s all shipshape again,’ said Mrs Morris, coming in from the kitchen. ‘We’ll have a game or two, shall we, before Kathy goes home. Frank … Graham … are you going to join us?’

  To Kathy’s surprise they both agreed that they would.

  ‘There’ll be too many of us, though,’ said Shirley. ‘It makes five and we only need four for Ludo.’

  ‘And then there’s Brenda,’ said Kathy.

  ‘Oh, she’s too little,’ said Shirley. ‘I tell you what; she can play with you, Kathy, seeing that you seem to have taken to her … Let her think she is helping,’ she added in a grown-up voice.

  ‘And I’ll have a look at the paper while you play,’ said Mrs Morris. ‘Then we can swap over later.’

  Kathy enjoyed the games very much. Mr Morris was such good fun. Her dad could hardly ever be persuaded to join in games, and it wasn’t much good with just herself and Aunty Win, although her aunt had taught her to play draughts and how to do patience, which you could play on your own. It was usually very quiet in the evening at Kathy’s home, with her dad listening to the wireless and her aunt knitting or reading. She was enjoying playing immensely now, but she decided that Graham was not a very good loser. He wanted to win at all the games – she guessed that was why he wanted to play, so that he could show off – and he was really cross when Shirley won the first game of Ludo. He won the second one, though, so he cheered up a bit.

  Then Mrs Morris joined in instead of her husband, and they played Snakes and Ladders. Graham was very annoyed when his counter had to go down a really long snake. And in the end Kathy won that game.

  ‘It’s only a game of chance,’ remarked Graham. ‘You don’t have to be clever to win at Snakes and Ladders, not like you do at Ludo.’ Mrs Morris told him off for being impolite to their guest, but Kathy didn’t mind. She didn’t know what he meant, really. Besides, it had all been such good fun.

  When it was time for Kathy to go home Mrs Morris said she would walk back with her. ‘I feel that I need a breath of fresh air,’ she explained.

  ‘But it’s Brenda’s bedtime,’ said her husband.

  ‘It’s all right, Frank,’ she replied. ‘She can stay up a bit and I’ll see to her when I get back. I won’t be long. You can perhaps read her a story?’

  ‘OK, then,’ said Mr Morris. He didn’t seem to mind that.

  ‘Thank you for having me,’ Kathy said to him when she had got her coat on, just as her aunt had taught her to do when she went to someone’s house.

  ‘That’s all right,’ he laughed. ‘You’re a very polite little lady. We’ve enjoyed having you. Come again, any time.’

  ‘Can I come with you to Kathy’s?’ asked Shirley.

  ‘No, you stay here,’ replied her mother. ‘Maybe you could read a story to Brenda as well. She’ll like that.’

  Shirley nodded. ‘I’ll read her the one about the three billy goats gruff. It’s her favourite.’ Shirley was very proud of her prowess at reading and never lost an opportunity to show off a little.

  ‘Ta-ra, Kathy,’ she called. ‘See you at school tomorrow.’

  Dusk was falling as they set off along the street and round the corner to the hotel where Kathy lived. She held Mrs Morris’s hand as they crossed the road. She liked Shirley’s mum. She was young and pretty, with blonde hair like Shirley’s, and she wore bright-pink lipstick. She was nice and friendly too, and never seemed to get bad-tempered, not like some of the mums that Kathy had seen sometimes on the way home from school, shouting at their children.

  ‘I want to have a little chat with your aunty … about something,’ she told Kathy. ‘And I didn’t really want Shirley to be listening, not until it’s sorted out. She’s a bit nosey, is our Shirley; she likes to know what’s going on.’

  ‘Little pigs have big ears,’ remarked Kathy. ‘That’s what my aunty says sometimes, when she wants to tell my dad something private. But I don’t ever tell tales.’

  Mrs Morris laughed. ‘No, I’m sure you don’t. It’s not really a secret … but I was wondering if your aunt might find me a job at the hotel when the season starts … You’re the only person I’ve told yet,’ she added confidingly. ‘But keep it under your hat for the moment. That means—’

  ‘It means I’ve not to tell Shirley.’ Kathy nodded. ‘Don’t worry, Mrs Morris. It’s our secret.’

  Shirley’s mum laughed. ‘You’re a little cough drop, aren’t you?’ That was a funny thing to say. Her aunty said it sometimes when Kathy said something that made her laugh. She guessed it was a nice thing to be.

  ‘We’ll go in the back way,’ said Kathy when they arrived at Holmleigh. ‘The back door’s usually open until everyone’s in. Come in, Mrs Morris,’ she said politely. ‘I’ll tell my aunty you’re here.’

  The door opened straight into the kitchen, and that led into the living room. It was the family dining room and sitting room and everything-else room, separate from the rooms at the front which were occupied by the visitors.

  ‘Mrs Morris has brought me home,’ called Kathy. ‘She wants to ask you something, Aunty Win.’

  Aunty Win was knitting and her dad was reading the newspaper and smoking his pipe. He looked up and nodded. ‘Hello there. Thanks for having our Kathy.’ Then he returned to his paper.

  ‘Come in, come in. Sit yourself down.’ Aunty Win jumped up and moved a couple of magazines off an easy chair.

  ‘Thank you … I hope I’m not disturbing you,’ said Shirley’s mum.

  ‘No, not at all … Kathy, go and take your coat off, there’s a good girl. And then you can read in your bedroom while I talk to Mrs Morris,’ said Aunty Win.

  ‘Oh, it’s all right; it’s nothing private,’ said Mrs Morris. ‘I’ve already mentioned it to Kathy, haven’t I, dear?’ She sat down and paused for a moment before she started to speak. ‘Actually … I was wondering if you could perhaps find me a job of some sort, Miss Leigh, when the season starts. I could turn my hand to almost anything I’m sure; chambermaid, waitress or … whatever you think best.’

  ‘I’m sure I could employ you,’ said Winifred. ‘We, I should say, as it’s my brother’s business as well as mine. But he leaves that side of things to me, don’t you, Albert?’

  ‘Eh? What?’ Albert looked up from his paper.

  ‘Mrs Morris would like to come and work here during the season,’ said Winifred. ‘We’d be pleased to have her, wouldn’t we?’

  ‘Yes, of course,’ replied Albert. ‘You sort it out, Winnie.’

  ‘Oh … do call me Sadie,’ said Mrs Morris. ‘Most people do, and I prefer it.’

  ‘And I’m Winifred; Win or Winnie for short. But you know that, don’t you?’

  ‘Well, yes; Kathy talks a lot about her Aunty Win. In fact, that’s how I always think of you, as Aunty Win.’

  Winifred smiled. ‘“What’s in a name?” as somebody once said. Christian names it is, then. As you get older some people think it’s too familiar to call you by your first name, but I’ve never minded at all. So … Sadie, let’s see what we can sort out, shall we?’

 
; Kathy sat at the table, quietly leafing through her Twinkle comic, but she was listening as well. She heard Mrs Morris explaining that she hadn’t been out to work since before she was married, but that she needed a job to ‘make ends meet’.

  ‘My husband, Frank, is quite old-fashioned, you see. I had a good job before we were married. I was a shorthand typist, and I worked for a solicitor in the town. But when we got married Frank made me give it up and stay at home. He thinks it’s a man’s place to provide, and he does earn quite a good wage; he’s a bus driver for the Blackpool Corporation. He says it’s a woman’s job to stay at home and look after the house. Then the children arrived – Graham and Shirley and Brenda – and so, of course, I’ve spent all my time looking after them and Frank.’

  ‘And making a very good job of it,’ said Winifred.

  ‘Well, yes; I’ve done my best. But we could do with a bit more coming in, to be quite honest. Graham and Shirley are always needing new things, they grow so fast. And Brenda has to have a lot of ‘hand-me-downs’ that Shirley has grown out of. I sometimes feel they’re shabbily dressed compared with some of the other children – your Kathy, for instance.’

  ‘Well, we’ve only got Kathy to look after,’ replied Winifred. ‘And we try to make an extra effort … under the circumstances, you see,’ she added in a quieter voice. She means it’s because I haven’t got a mum, thought Kathy … ‘But I think your children are a credit to you, Sadie.’

  ‘Thank you. Well, I always make sure they’re clean and tidy, and I try to see that they don’t go short of anything, but it’s hard at times. And I’d like to be able to buy a new dress for myself now and again, without having to ask Frank every time.’

  Kathy, listening to it all, recalled that Shirley didn’t have so many different clothes as she had. And the gymslip her friend was wearing now was too short, but she had never really thought anything about it before.