by Joan Jonker
‘It’ll take her a while to settle in, it’s only been a couple of weeks,’ Kate said. ‘Don’t forget, everything will be strange to her and it’ll take time for her to adjust. But I bet we hear from her by the end of the week.’
‘Are we finished shopping?’ Monica asked. ‘I’m dying for a drink, me mouth feels as though it’s full of sawdust.’
‘Is that a hint, Monica Parry, that the next stop is my house? It seems the only place yer think of when yer want a cuppa, even though yer have to pass yer own house to get it.’ Kate sighed. ‘Sometimes I think yer’ve forgotten yer’ve got a home of yer own.’
‘Oh, stop yer moaning, girl, ye’re giving me the willies! To shut yer up, we’ll stop at the cake shop and I’ll mug you and Winnie to a cream cake. Does that make yer feel any better?’
‘I’ll buy the cakes, queen.’ Winnie had cut down on food in the last few days for just this very purpose. She didn’t want to be a hanger-on, a scrounger, taking all the time and giving nothing back. ‘You bought them last time so it’s my turn now.’
‘No, I’m feeling in a generous mood, so I’ll do the honours. Cream slices all round, is it, ladies?’ Monica licked her lips. ‘Me mouth’s watering already.’
‘If you’ve got money to throw away, sunshine, who am I to object?’ Kate said. ‘But I’ve got to tell yer that I won’t be returning the favour ’cos I can’t afford it. I’m sticking to the promise I made meself, and putting coppers in each of me Christmas clubs every week.’
Monica kept a straight face. ‘Oh, I wouldn’t expect yer to, girl! Not when yer’ve kindly offered to have the party at Christmas. I mean, that will make up for a whole year of cream slices.’
With a quick shake of her head, and a few tuts, Kate began to walk in the direction of home. ‘Come on, people are having to walk around us, we’re taking up the whole pavement.’
‘Now that would be terrible if some poor bugger had to walk around us, wouldn’t it? So, to save anyone the inconvenience, we’ll make our way to the cake shop. Perhaps the smell of homemade bread will improve my mate’s crotchety mood.’
They were leaving the cake shop when young Billy came bounding towards them, his face red with the exertion of running hell for leather. ‘Mam,’ the boy bent double to get his breath back, ‘there’s some people moving into Miss Parkinson’s house! They’re carrying things in off a handcart.’
The three women were taken aback. ‘A handcart? Are yer sure, sunshine, that they’re going into Miss Parkinson’s?’
‘Yeah, they’ve got the door open and they’re taking boxes into the house.’ Billy felt very grown-up being the bearer of such news. ‘It’s only a handcart, though, like the rag and bone man has.’
‘Are they big tea chests they’re carrying in?’ Kate asked. ‘Yer know what they are, big square ones?’
Billy shook his head. ‘No, only small cardboard boxes and orange boxes.’
The three women looked at each other and their thoughts were alike. ‘Come on, let’s see what’s going on.’ Monica placed the cake bag on the top of her basket. She was usually very careful with them, in case the cream got all squashed, but the news Billy brought was more important than a few flipping squashed cakes. ‘It’s a wonder the rent man didn’t tell us they’d let the house.’
‘Bill did say there were a few people after it, but that was all he could say. It’s up to Mr Coburn who gets the tenancy, not Bill. He can recommend, but doesn’t have the final say. He should be around for his money soon, anyway, so perhaps he’ll be able to tell us more.’
It seemed the arrival of the handcart had caused considerable curiosity in the street, because when the friends turned the corner they could see a lot of women standing at their doors, Maggie Duffy being one of them. When she saw her neighbours, she hurried towards them. ‘I don’t know what to make of it, but I smell trouble. Look at the state of the cart, and that’s in good nick compared to what’s being carried in.’
‘Have yer spoken to them yet?’ Monica asked. ‘Just to say hello, like?’
‘No fear! And yer’ll understand why when yer get a bit nearer. The mouth on the woman is terrible, but the man is worse. God only knows where they’ve come from.’
Winnie was showing concern. She’d go mad if her friend’s little house was let to bad people. ‘Have yer seen any children?’
‘Oh, yeah,’ said Maggie, pulling a face, ‘I’ve seen five so far.’
‘Five kids in a two-up-two-down!’ Kate’s voice was high. ‘What is the landlord thinking of? Unless they didn’t tell him they had so many children.’
‘Let’s cross over,’ Monica suggested. ‘We can see what’s going on from our front windows. If they’ve let that house to a bad lot, I’ll have something to say to our Mr Coburn.’
As they walked towards Kate’s house, all eyes slid sideways to the open door through which a man’s voice could be heard, loud and coarse. It was echoing against the walls of the empty room, and every other word was a swear word or blasphemous. There was disgust on Kate’s face as she put the key in the lock. ‘Fancy having to live near that!’
Just then three children came running out of the house, having been chased out by the man with the rough voice. There were two girls and a boy, and there didn’t seem to be much difference in their ages. Guessing, Kate thought the girls were about four and five years of age, and the boy six. They looked bedraggled and neglected. The clothes were old, frayed and dirty, and the girls’ hair was matted as though it hadn’t seen water or a comb for months. Kate felt a pang of pity until she heard their shrill voices shouting obscenities which should never be heard from children who, at that age, should know only innocence.
The children who lived in the street had been drawn by curiosity to the handcart, but now their mothers were either calling them in or, shaking their heads in disgust, dragging them in by their ears if they were reluctant to move away from the only excitement going on. Most of the women could use swear words when things got on top of them, like the kids playing them up or worry over money. But their curses were mild compared to what they were hearing now, and without exception the local women feared their new neighbours were trouble-makers and felt they would do well to give them a wide berth.
‘Let’s get inside,’ Kate said. ‘And you come in with us, Maggie, so yer can see what’s going on? As for you, Billy, play down at the bottom of the street with Pete. And if those children speak to yer, ignore them.’
While Kate carried her shopping through to the kitchen, her three friends stood in front of the window, anger mixed with sadness as they remembered the love and care that house had known for so many years. ‘Has there been any big pieces of furniture taken in, Maggie?’ Monica asked. ‘You know, wardrobes, beds, tables and chairs?’
‘Not that I’ve seen, love, but they wouldn’t get big things like that on a handcart. Maybe there’s a removal van bringing the big stuff later. All I’ve seen is boxes and bags being carried in.’
Winnie stroked her chin. ‘Well, it’s a mystery to me. If they’ve ordered a removal van, why would they be bothered dragging that bleeding handcart with bits on? I’m blowed if I’d make a fool of meself by walking through the streets with that, if I didn’t have to.’
As she spoke, two older children came out of the house, a boy and a girl, probably nine and eleven. They didn’t run out, as the others had, but swaggered, looking really cocky and sure of themselves. They were scruffy, and looked as though they hadn’t used a block of soap in a long time, but their appearance didn’t seem to worry them.
‘They look like gypsies to me,’ Monica said. ‘I don’t know what the landlord was thinking of when he gave them the tenancy to a house that was spotlessly clean and didn’t want a thing doing to it. That lot will have it ruined in no time. I’d say we’re in for a very rough ride with them. The kids are brazen-faced, yer can see that a mile off. And I wouldn’t like to tangle with the mother, have yer seen the arms on her? She’s built like a bleeding ox
!’
Kate came through carrying a tray. ‘Here yer are, ladies, a nice cup of tea. But ye’re not getting saucers ’cos I don’t want a stack of dishes to wash.’ She put the tray on the table and began to hand cups around. ‘I’ve been listening and I’ve got meself all worked up. Fancy our kids playing in the street and listening to the language of that lot! Just wait until Bill comes for the rent money, he’ll get a piece of my mind.’
But when the rent collector called an hour later, the house opposite was closed up, the handcart had gone, along with the man and woman, and the children had disappeared. Winnie was certain there was something fishy going on. ‘There was a man and a woman, five kids and a bleeding handcart! Now don’t tell me that Monica, Kate and meself have all imagined this ’cos even in me wildest dreams I could never imagine kids of that age using the kind of bad language that even I draw the line at.’
Bill looked bewildered. Several of the women this end of the street had had a go at him about the new tenants, and he’d thought they were exaggerating. But they couldn’t all be wrong. ‘I was told there were two children, with their father and mother. Mr Coburn wouldn’t let a two-bedroomed house to a family with five children.’
‘He’s been had! Taken for a bleeding ride!’ Winnie’s face was red at the very thought. ‘The crafty buggers must have sent those two eldest children out to look for you, and when they knew yer were near, they all scarpered! They’ll be back later when they know the coast is clear.’
‘Winnie is right, Bill,’ Kate said. ‘This is one time yer boss has slipped up, and I’ll swear he’ll have reason to regret it. The sad thing is, everyone in this street will regret it, too, because we’re the ones having to live by them.’
‘Go and give them a knock if yer don’t believe they’ve done a bunk to avoid seeing yer.’ Monica was livid. ‘They should be here to pay yer the rent money.’
‘I don’t need to call there today, they paid a week in advance. And even if I knocked, and they were in, I couldn’t do much because they are legally entitled to be there, having paid their rent. I can only suggest we leave things be for now, and wait until they do something to warrant being evicted. I will have a word with Mr Coburn, though, he needs to be warned.’
With that the ladies had to be content, and went about the business of making a meal for their families.
As Kate was putting the meal out in the kitchen, John was washing his hands at the sink. She was telling him about the unusual day they’d had, and about their new neighbours. ‘Winnie was right, too, ’cos they all came back an hour after the rent man had left the street. All seven of them, plus the ruddy handcart with more boxes and bags. I’ll swear he’s a rag and bone man, he’s certainly got the voice for one. And the kids! Well, the carrying on and the language out of them, yer’d have to see and hear it to believe what I’m telling yer.’
She carried two plates through and put them down in front of her children, then she went back for hers and John’s. ‘There’s something radically wrong somewhere.’ Kate pulled a chair out and sat down. ‘No chairs, beds or tables. Where are they going to sleep tonight, and what are they sitting on?’
‘The big lad is not half cheeky,’ Billy said. ‘Mrs Jones from the bottom of the street told him off for swearing, and yer should have heard what he called her! I can’t tell yer, ’cos yer’d give me a clip around the ear.’
‘They sound a right crew, but there’s nothing yer can do about it, love, except wait and see what happens. The furniture might turn up tomorrow, yer never know!’
‘The children are not nice, Dad, they’re really hard-faced. Two of them asked to have a go with our skipping rope, and when me and Dolly refused, they started pushing us, trying to pull it out of our hands.’ Nancy had never known children like them because none of the other kids in the street would answer a grown-up back, and they weren’t as dirty, either. ‘They didn’t get it, ’cos they’re only little and we could easy push them away. But yer should have heard what they called us!’
‘Keep well away, have nothing to do with them, either of yer.’ John could see the day coming when he’d be having words with the father of these children who, by the sound of things, were definitely out of control. ‘They’re not your sort, steer clear.’
There came a tap on the window, and Kate looked over to see Monica making signs for her to open the front door. ‘Ooh, I wonder what she wants? It must be important ’cos they should be sitting down to their dinner at this time.’
Monica, her face radiant, stepped into the hall and put a hand on each of Kate’s cheeks. ‘It’s been a lousy day, hasn’t it, girl?’
Kate backed away so she could look her friend in the face. ‘If yer thought it was so bad, what have yer got a grin on yer face for?’
‘Go into the living room, and all will be revealed.’
‘But we’re having our dinner! Whatever it is, can’t it wait?’
‘We were in the middle of our dinner as well, girl, so don’t be feeling sorry for yerself. In the living room, so John can hear why I’m feeling on top of the world.’
He was smiling when the two friends walked in. ‘Can’t you two go for more than an hour without seeing each other?’
‘I’d have burst if I’d had to wait any longer,’ Monica told him. ‘Yer see, I’ve just had the most marvellous news. Tom has been made up to floorwalker – he’ll be a boss!’
‘Oh, that is wonderful news, sunshine, I’m really happy for yer.’ Kate gave her a hug. ‘But don’t think that gives yer the right to have airs and graces, and throw yer weight around.’
John laid his knife and fork down. ‘I bet Tom’s over the moon. Did he have any idea or has it come out of the blue?’
‘He knew they were looking for one because the old floorwalker retired last week. But Tom didn’t have an inkling the job would be offered to him. He thought they’d bring somebody in from outside. He’s still in a state of shock, but nice shock, if yer know what I mean.’
‘And have yer left yer dinner on the table, sunshine?’
‘I couldn’t wait to tell yer, girl. I’d started to eat me dinner when Tom dropped the bombshell, and yer were the first person I thought of. I don’t even feel hungry now, I’m too excited.’ Then came a throaty chuckle. ‘I was eating me dinner, and talking with me mouth full as usual, telling Tom about the goings-on over the road, when he told me he’d been promoted to floorwalker and I nearly bloody choked meself!’
‘I’m made up for yer, sunshine, yer lucky blighter.’
John nodded. ‘Yeah, tell Tom I send my congratulations.’
‘Yer can tell him yerself, ’cos he’s taking yer for a pint tonight to celebrate.’ Monica had been warned not to repeat all her husband had mentioned so she settled for, ‘Don’t say yer can’t afford to go because it’s Tom’s treat. And yer never know, lad, a bit of his luck might rub off on you. Stand next to him at the bar, rub shoulders and make a wish.’
Kate could see the children and John had stopped eating. She cupped her mate’s elbow. ‘Go and finish yer dinner, sunshine, and let us get on with ours. But when the men go out, come and sit with us for an hour to pass the time.’
John hated to go to the pub when he hadn’t any money in his pocket to pay for a round, but to refuse to celebrate Tom’s good fortune would have looked churlish. So he bit on his pride and sat at one of the small tables in a corner, while his friend went to the bar for two pints of bitter and two glasses of whisky.
‘Hey, what’s the idea! Yer shouldn’t have got me a whisky!’
‘Shut up and get it down yer,’ Tom said. ‘It’s only once in a lifetime yer get news like I got today. It means an extra ten bob a week, and that’s not to be sneezed at.’
‘It certainly isn’t, yer’ve landed on yer feet.’ John sipped on the whisky while Tom downed his in two gulps. ‘Mind you, yer’ve been there since yer left school so no one can say yer don’t deserve it or don’t know the job inside out.’
Tom looked at
his neighbour over the rim of his glass, then after drinking deeply on the beer, put the glass down. ‘There’ll be a vacancy after I start my new job next Monday. How would yer feel about applying for it?’
John looked surprised. ‘They’ve probably got someone lined up for it, I wouldn’t stand a chance!’
‘Yer won’t if yer don’t bloody well try! I can put a word in for yer, recommend yer, that should give yer a start. I get on well with the manager so yer’d be in with a better chance than most. Unless ye’re happy where yer are. In that case just forget it.’ Tom knew his friend wasn’t on good money, and Kate was always having a struggle to make ends meet. ‘But it would mean an extra seven and six a week in yer wage packet.’
John’s mouth dropped. ‘I knew yer were on better pay than me, but I didn’t realize it was so much more. That does surprise me.’
‘It would surprise Monica, too, if she knew, so silence is golden. I don’t keep her short, in fact she does very well. But the more I give her, the more she’ll spend. She’s not as thrifty with money as Kate is.’
‘Kate wouldn’t know she was born with an extra seven and six a week, she’d think she was a millionaire.’ John swirled his beer round in the glass, and in the golden liquid could see images of his wife’s face. She kept the house and family going on the lousy wages he was on, with never a complaint out of her. How he’d love to be able to hand her a decent wage packet every week so she could go out and buy herself and the children new clothes. Then she wouldn’t have to strain her eyes nearly every night, darning and patching. ‘D’yer think I’d be in with a chance, then, Tom?’
‘I can’t promise yer’d get the job, but I will say yer stand a better chance than most if I can pull a few strings for yer.’ Tom peered at him over the rim of his glass. ‘I can put a few feelers out tomorrow, if yer like, and get yer an application form.’
