Try a Little Tenderness

by Joan Jonker

  ‘You ain’t kidding,’ Amy said, coming back after putting the kettle on. ‘Yer could eat yer bleedin’ dinner off the floor out there.’

  Lizzie smiled with pleasure, even though every part of her was hurting. ‘I do me best. I’ve never forgotten what my mother used to tell me. “Never let housework get on top of yer. Do a bit every day, then yer’ll never have a dirty house”.’ A look of sadness came to the faded blue eyes. ‘It’s thirty years since she died, but I’ve never forgotten her, or me dad. They were wonderful parents.’

  ‘Sure, wouldn’t they have to be, to have brought a lovely lady like you into the world?’ Molly sat down on the edge of the couch and lifted one of the thin hands. ‘Will yer let me run me hand up yer arm, me darlin’? I’ll be as gentle as I can, but shout out if I hurt yer.’

  Lizzie nodded. ‘I trust yer, Molly.’

  The kettle began to whistle and Amy jumped to her feet. ‘I’ll pour the water into the pot and leave it to brew for a while.’

  When Lizzie shuddered, Molly quickly took her hand away. ‘Does that hurt, me darlin’?’

  The old lady nodded. ‘It’s very painful.’

  ‘Right, we’ll have a cup of tea then take yer jumper off to see what’s what.’ Molly smiled into the lined face. ‘Yer haven’t broken anything, sweetheart, so that’s a blessing.’

  Mary glanced towards the kitchen. ‘Amy Hanley, have yer gone to China for that ruddy tea? We’re all spitting feathers in here.’

  ‘Ay, I’m seeing to the invalid.’ Amy appeared, carefully carrying a cup and saucer. ‘You can see to yer ruddy self, ye’re ugly enough.’ She handed the saucer to Molly. ‘You hold it, girl, in case Lizzie spills it on herself.’

  The old lady looked flustered. ‘I’ve only got a drop of milk, I was on me way to the shops to get some when I fell.’

  ‘That’s all right, sunshine, we’re not dying of thirst.’ Mary felt sorry for the proud old lady who’d never been known to borrow or cadge off anyone. ‘We’ll see to yer bit of shopping, so don’t worry.’

  The drink seemed to perk Lizzie up. She licked her lips and said, ‘That’s the best cup of tea I’ve ever had.’

  Molly took the cup from her and handed it to Amy, who was hovering by the end of the couch. Then she stroked Lizzie’s cheek. ‘Lean forward, me darlin’, and I’ll roll yer jumper up from the back. It’ll be over yer head in the blink of an eye, so it will.’

  Lizzie was covered in bruises, particularly down the right side, where she’d landed. They were only just beginning to colour, but as Molly said, ‘Tomorrow they’ll be black and blue, me darlin’, and very sore. Best if yer stay in and rest for a few days.’

  ‘I wouldn’t be able to go out, Molly, ’cos I think I’ve broke me ankle.’

  ‘I don’t think yer’ll have broken it, sweetheart, or they’d hear yer screaming down at the Pier Head. But yer may have sprained it when yer fell. Let’s take yer shoes and stockings off and have a gander.’ Molly sat nursing the painful foot. ‘It’s not broken, me darlin’, or it would be swelled up like a balloon. But yer’ve sprained it all right and yer won’t be able to walk on it for a few days.’

  ‘How’s she going to get up the stairs to bed, then?’ Amy wanted to know. ‘Or down the yard to the lavvy?’

  ‘With our help, that’s how,’ Mary said. ‘We’ll make up a bed on the couch so she’s nice and comfy, and we’ll give her an arm to lean on while she hops down the yard.’

  Molly saw the worried frown on Lizzie’s face and patted her gently. ‘It’s only for a few days, me darlin’, and won’t it be nice to be waited on hand and foot?’

  ‘I’m going to be a nuisance to yer, I’m sorry.’

  ‘Don’t be so daft!’ Amy felt like picking the old lady up and taking her home, where there was a nice fire roaring up the chimney. ‘There’s three of us, we’ll take turns looking after yer.’

  ‘Then let’s start now,’ Molly said briskly. ‘Mary, if Lizzie doesn’t mind, will yer see to the bedding? Oh, and bring a nightdress and something to wrap around her shoulders. And Amy, will you bank the fire up, me darlin’, then make Lizzie another cup of tea?’ The Irishwoman winked at Amy. ‘Sure, I can see in yer eyes what yerself is thinking, Amy me darlin’. So I’ll answer yer and save yer the trouble of asking. I’m off home to get a bucket of coal to fill the scuttle and some milk to keep Lizzie in drinks until one of us goes to the shops.’

  The small house became a hive of activity and Lizzie began to enjoy herself. It was nice to have people for a change, to hear a human voice instead of just the steady ticking of the clock. She never had visitors and sometimes felt very lonely as each dreary day dragged on to another dreary day. But the house was ringing now with the sound of Mary’s laughter and Amy’s antics, and although she was in pain, the old lady was thinking her fall was a blessing in disguise.

  When Molly came back with the coal and milk, it was to see the old lady looking much brighter and contented. She had a clean nightdress on, with a maroon cardi over her shoulders, and her head was resting on three feather pillows.

  ‘Well, now, don’t you look the posh one? Sure ’tis the life of Riley himself yer’ll be having for the next few days.’ Molly placed a jug of milk on the table before emptying the bucket of coal into the brass coal scuttle at the side of the hearth. ‘That should keep yer going until tonight.’

  ‘I’ll send our John down with another bucket when he’s had his dinner,’ Amy said. ‘He’ll bank the fire up so it lasts all through the night and keeps the room warm.’

  ‘There’s no need,’ Lizzie said, afraid she’d never be able to pay these women back. ‘I don’t feel the cold.’

  ‘While ye’re lying there, Lizzie Marshall, yer’ll do as ye’re told. I’ll ask our Jenny to come down and sit with yer for an hour, keep yer company. And when it’s time for bed, one of us will come and help yer to the lavvy before settling yer down for the night.’

  Molly turned her head away so they couldn’t see the grin on her face. John and Jenny coming here tonight, eh? Didn’t that give Amy’s son an unfair advantage? She’d have to pass that bit of information on to Mick, so she would, otherwise he’d be left at the starting post.

  ‘Look, Mary and Amy, you two go and get yer shopping done. I’ll stay with Lizzie until dinnertime, then one of you can take over.’

  ‘Are yer sure, Molly?’ Mary asked. ‘I feel a bit mean, leaving yer.’

  ‘Nonsense!’ Molly shooed them out of the room. ‘I couldn’t pass me time in better company than Lizzie’s. We’ll have a great time, altogether, pulling everyone to pieces.’ But her face became serious when she was showing her neighbours out. ‘She seems fine, but I think we should keep our eyes on her for a few days. I’m not worried about the bruises, they’ll not kill her. But Lizzie is eighty years of age, so she is, and a fall can be a terrible shock to the system.’

  ‘Yeah, I’ve been thinking of that meself.’ Mary sighed as she linked her arm through Amy’s. ‘We’ll get her a few groceries to keep her going, and go half each with the cost. Is that all right with you, sunshine?’

  ‘Yer’ve no need to ask, girl, yer know that.’ Amy’s voice was choked. ‘She’s a ruddy hero, that old lady, d’yer know that? She keeps her house beautiful, like a little palace. But her cupboards are bare. There’s nowt to eat in the kitchen, not even a crumb to give to the birds. It’s no wonder she fell, she must be as weak as a kitten and light-headed with hunger.’

  ‘We’ll feed her up in the next few days,’ Molly said, ‘and watch out for her in future. But we’ll have to be careful how we do it. She’s a proud old lady and would be offended if she thought we were doing it out of pity.’ She began to close the door. ‘I’ll get back to her now and see if she wants to spend a penny.’

  In the Nightingale house, the family were seated around the table eating their dinner as Mary told of the day’s events. ‘Honest to God, there’s not a pick on her, she’s as thin as a rake. Molly picked her up as though she was
a baby. But what a little love she is. I felt like hugging the life out of her.’

  ‘Yeah, she’s a nice little thing, always got a pleasant smile for yer,’ Stan said. ‘And she does well for her age, her windows and step are always the cleanest in the street.’

  Jenny’s eyes were full of concern. ‘I hope she wasn’t hurt bad, Mam? I think she’s lovely, like a little doll.’

  ‘She’s full of bruises, and they must be sore because she’s got no flesh on her. But a week’s rest, staying in the warmth, should see a great improvement.’ Mary pushed her plate back and rested her elbows on the table. ‘I want one of yer to sit with her for a few hours tonight, just to keep her company so she’s not dwelling on things.’

  For the first time, Laura showed interest in the conversation. It was Thursday, her night for Barlow’s Lane and Gary. She hadn’t seen him since last week and she was going tonight come hell or high water. ‘Ah, ay, Mam! I’m going dancing tonight – I’ve made arrangements! Anyway, I don’t want to sit with an old woman, I wouldn’t know what to talk about.’

  ‘I’ll go, Mam,’ Jenny said quickly, before her mother could speak. ‘Me and Janet will sit with her – we’d like that.’

  Mary sighed as she looked at her eldest daughter. Selfish to the core, as usual. There was only one person she cared about and that was herself. But angry words wouldn’t change her so what was the point in getting herself all worked up for nothing? So Mary smiled at Jenny as she thanked God that both sisters were not alike. ‘Thanks, sunshine, I might have known yer wouldn’t let me down. I’ve got Miss Marshall’s key and I told her someone would be there about seven. So get yerself ready and go round for Janet.’

  Jenny’s chair scraped back. ‘I’ll wash the dishes first.’

  ‘No, yer won’t,’ Stan said, ‘Laura will wash the dishes.’

  Laura’s face was like thunder and a sharp retort was on the tip of her tongue. But it stayed there, because her father’s face told her he would brook no argument. So it was with ill-grace she collected the plates and made for the kitchen.

  In the house next door sat the Hanley family, and Amy had just finishing telling them the news. Mealtimes in the household were usually lively, with the house ringing with laughter. But tonight was different, as Miss Marshall was well liked by them all. The two boys, John and Eddy, were remembering that when they were younger, never once had the old lady chased them when they were playing footie outside her house. Never shook a clenched fist at them nor threatened to tell their mother like the other neighbours did. And Edna was thinking of the times Miss Marshall had given her a ha’penny for going on a message.

  ‘Is the old girl going to be all right?’ Ben asked. ‘Shouldn’t she have a doctor?’

  ‘We decided to wait and see how she is tomorrow.’ Amy cupped her chin in her hand. ‘I’ll tell yer what, that Molly Moynihan is as good as any doctor. Like Florence Nightingale she was. Me and Mary wouldn’t have had a bleedin’ clue what to do, but Molly did.’ She gave her eldest son a dig in the ribs. ‘By the way, I want yer to take a bucketful of coal over and bank the fire up for Lizzie.’

  ‘I’ll go now then, ’cos I’m going out later.’

  ‘It’s no good going before seven ’cos yer won’t get in. Mary took the door key so one of the girls can let themselves in to sit with Lizzie for a couple of hours. It’ll probably be Jenny – I can’t see the other selfish so-and-so helping out.’

  John’s spirits lifted. He’d get there for seven and pull a fast one on Mick. ‘Okay, I wasn’t going anywhere exciting, anyway.’

  In the house opposite, the Moynihan family were discussing the same subject. ‘So, with one thing and another, it’s been quite a day,’ Molly said. ‘But, thanks be to God, she’d only just fallen when Amy saw her. If she’d been left to lie on the ground for long, in this weather, she’d have died of cold, and that’s the truth of it.’

  ‘Is there anything I can do, sweetheart?’ Seamus asked. ‘Sure, haven’t I always had a soft spot for the dear old soul? I bet there’s never been an angry word passed her lips, nor a swearword; she’s too much of a lady for that.’

  ‘We’re sorted out for today, everything’s under control. Amy’s sending John down with coal and he’s going to bank the fire up to last through the night. And Mary’s going down last thing to take Lizzie down the yard.’ Molly was facing her husband but her eyes were looking sideways to where her son was sitting. ‘Oh, and young Jenny is going to sit with Lizzie for a couple of hours to keep her company.’

  Mick stopped chewing and his mouth fell open. But he quickly recovered when the implication of what his mother had said hit home. He swallowed the food in his mouth and put down his knife and fork. There were more important things at stake than food. He racked his brain to think of something that would put him on a level pegging with John, but his usually sharp mind was lacking in ideas. ‘I’ll take her some coal, as well, to save you ladies having to lug it down tomorrow.’

  Molly kept her face straight. ‘I’ve told yer, me darlin’, John’s taking a bucketful. If you turn up with another, the old lady will have a fit, so she will.’

  ‘Well, I’m going down with something, I’m not letting John Hanley have a clear field.’ Mick nodded his head for emphasis. ‘I bet he’s laughing sacks, having it handed to him on a flamin’ platter.’

  Seamus felt his wife kick him gently on the ankle, and turned to see the laughter in her eyes. ‘You could go down tomorrow night, son, that would make it fair. Anyway, aren’t yer supposed to be going out with John? So he won’t be spending much time there, will he?’

  ‘Huh! Yer don’t think he’ll be thinking of me, do yer? Not on yer blinking life, he won’t. If Jenny’s there he’ll stay put. Not even Jean Harlow would get him out.’ Mick glared at his mother. ‘Why didn’t yer say I’d take the coal down?’

  Molly leaned across the table and gave him a broad wink. ‘Well, yer see, me darlin’, I thought Miss Marshall would appreciate a homemade custard instead.’

  When the words had sunk in, Mick’s eyes shone and his dimples appeared. ‘D’yer mean yer’ve made her a custard?’

  ‘I have that, me darlin’. And although I say it as shouldn’t, it looks very appetising, so it does. Lovely golden brown, with a pinch of nutmeg on the top.’

  ‘Mam, ye’re an angel. And a clever one at that.’

  ‘Perhaps devious would be a better word. But, sure, I couldn’t stand back and see me only son and heir left out in the cold.’

  Mick jumped to his feet. ‘I’m going to get washed and put a clean shirt on.’ He got halfway up the stairs, stopped for a second then turned and came down again. Poking his head around the door, a wide smile on his handsome face, he asked, ‘Would yer say that a custard was a better present than a bucket of coal?’

  Seamus dropped his head back and roared with laughter. ‘Sure, now, that would mightily depend upon whether yer were hungry or cold.’

  When they were alone, the big Irishman put his arm around his wife’s shoulder. ‘’Tis a bit of the divil himself yer have in yer, Molly Moynihan, and that’s a fact.’

  She met his eyes and the love she had for her husband was there to see. ‘I’ve two men in me life, Seamus Moynihan, and if they need a little help from me, then I’ll always do me best. But, sure, I’ll not be making friends with the divil to do it.’

  Jenny pulled two of the wooden chairs away from the table and set them in front of the couch. ‘There now, we won’t have to raise our voices to hear each other.’

  Lizzie Marshall smiled. ‘It’s very kind of you to come and sit with an old woman. But young girls should be out enjoying themselves. Haven’t yer got boyfriends?’

  Jenny got a fit of the giggles. ‘We’re too young to go out with boys, Miss Marshall.’ She turned to her friend, who was blushing to the roots of her hair. ‘Anyway, no one will have us, will they, Jan?’

  ‘They will when we’re a bit older.’ Janet was quite indignant. ‘Another few months and
me mam said I can go dancing.’ She narrowed her eyes. ‘Have you asked yer mam yet if you can come with me?’

  ‘Not yet, but I think I could get round her. Especially if I’m going with you.’

  Lizzie was visibly startled when there was a loud ran-tan at the door. ‘Oh dear, I wonder who this can be at this hour?’

  ‘It’ll only be John Hanley, Miss Marshall, don’t be frightened. Me mam told me he was coming with some coal. I’ll let him in.’

  But when Jenny opened the door it was to see Mick standing there with a plate in his hand, covered by a pure white cloth. ‘Me mam thought Miss Marshall might fancy this for her supper.’

  ‘Oh, I thought it was John knocking.’

  Mick feigned surprise. ‘Why, is he coming over?’

  Jenny nodded as she held out her hand. ‘I’ll take it, shall I?’

  But Mick wouldn’t have parted with the plate for all the tea in China. After all, she wouldn’t be asking John to hand a bucket of coal over, it would be too heavy. ‘No, I’d like to give it her meself, and ask how she is. It would be bad manners not to pay me respects. And me mam is red-hot on respect. If I went home and said I’d just handed the plate in and didn’t see the invalid, I’d get a clip around the ears for not being polite.’ His white teeth shone in the darkness. ‘And yer wouldn’t like me to get a clip around the ears, would yer, Jenny Nightingale?’

  Jenny’s peal of laughter rang out in the deserted street. ‘Mick Moynihan, has anybody ever told yer that yer talk too much?’

  John Hanley had just closed the door behind him when he heard Jenny’s laughter. A smile came to his face but quickly disappeared when he saw Mick standing outside Miss Marshall’s house with a plate in his hand. Then he started to leg it across the cobbles. There was some dirty work at the crossroads going on here – his mam hadn’t mentioned anything about Mick. The bucket was banging against his leg, but he didn’t slow down, even though he had his best pair of kecks on. The only thing on his mind was to stop his rival from setting foot in that house. But he was too late. Mick was already mounting the step when he reached the pavement opposite. ‘Don’t close the door, Jenny,’ he shouted. ‘This bucket is heavy.’