The Stanford Lasses

by Glenice Crossland

  ‘Don’t let him hit me, Mam. Don’t let him take his belt off to me.’

  Jack Dolan came back with a bundle of wet things. ‘We might as well chuck these away – they only came off’t cart in’t first place. There’s no point in wearing anything decent on’t cart – if I don’t end up picking up fleas, I only end up stinking of t’owd horse.’

  ‘I could dry them out for the next time you come round.’

  ‘Nay, love, don’t bother.’

  ‘Well, if you’re sure you don’t want them I could dry them out for our Billy. He’d be glad of them to go to school in.’ Ruth coloured, embarrassed now at almost begging.

  ‘Do what you like with ’em, love, and look after that little lad of yours.’ He took a gulp of tea. ‘He’s a plucky little devil – he didn’t even cry.’ Jack finished his tea. ‘So long then. I’ll be off on me rounds. Not that I do much on a Saturday, and not much to do in the fields either at this time of year, except for the livestock.’

  ‘Well, then, thanks ever so much.’ Ruth pushed Frankie forward. ‘Thank Mr Dolan, Frankie.’

  ‘Thank you, Mr Dolan.’

  ‘You’re welcome, son. And keep away from the watter, right?’

  ‘Ta-ra, mister.’ Frankie grinned, and then hurried upstairs to be out of the way if his father heard about the incident.

  Walter Wray had been in Sheffield since finishing his shift. He had picked up a woman in the Mucky Duck and gone back to her place until after dark. It was when he called at the Rag on his way home that he heard of his son’s ordeal. Ruth’s stomach turned a dozen cartwheels when she realised Walter had heard what had happened.

  ‘I reckon you’ve had a visitor?’

  ‘Yes.’ Ruth tried to keep her voice steady. ‘The rag and bone man brought our Frankie home. He slipped in the water.’

  ‘It’s coming to something when a man can’t go to work without his wife having a man in the house.’

  ‘Don’t talk silly, Walter. I hardly know the man.’

  ‘What difference does that make? Paid yer well, did he?’

  ‘What do you mean, paid me well? What do you think I am, one of the whores you like to keep company with?’

  ‘Well, I always said a woman’s got a gold mine between her legs. If you’re going to let ’em dig in it you might as well accept payment.’ Billy walked in at that moment and looked from one to the other, wondering what had set him off this time. ‘Did you know your mother’s taken to entertaining men while I’m out?’ Billy looked at Ruth.

  ‘He doesn’t know what he’s talking about, Billy. Take no notice.’ The baby began to cry and Ruth lifted her from the pram and cuddled her.

  ‘And who does she belong to, I wonder? Oh aye, it’s all coming out now, isn’t it? We’d better get to the bottom of this. Where’s our Frankie?’

  ‘In bed, of course.’

  ‘Oh! Sent him out of the way, I suppose, so you could entertain yer fancy man.’

  ‘Our Frankie was here the whole time. And how dare you accuse me of whoring, and with the baby only a fortnight old? What do you think I am?’

  ‘Fetch our Frankie.’

  Billy hurried upstairs and came down with his brother cowering behind him, still wrapped in a blanket against the bitter cold.

  ‘Well! What’s all this about you being in the river?’

  ‘I’m sorry, Dad.’

  ‘Take off the blanket.’ Walter undid the buckle of his belt. ‘Bend over.’

  Frankie’s face was as white as the washing on the line above his head, but he turned and bent over the chair back, trembling like a leaf in a storm. Walter brought the belt down across the small boy’s back twice before his mother intervened. ‘Stop it! That’s enough.’

  ‘Oh, eager for your turn, are yer?’ He grabbed his wife, still with little Margaret in her arms, and turned her over with such force that she almost dropped the crying infant. He lifted the belt and brought it down over her shoulders, cutting into her cheek with its metal buckle.

  Billy could take no more. He grabbed the knife from his pocket, the knife Uncle Joe had bought him to encourage him in his hobby of whittling wood. It was Billy’s most treasured possession; he had never had anything of his own before. He opened the blade. ‘Leave her alone or I’ll kill you.’

  Walter Wray laughed coarsely. ‘You and who else?’ he taunted. He lifted the belt again, and as it lashed once more against his wife’s back Billy stabbed hard with the knife into the arm wielding the leather strap. Walter’s face paled as he dropped the belt and surveyed his upper arm. His coat sleeve and his probing fingers were soaking with blood. He reeled at the sight of it and almost fell to the ground. Billy still held the knife gripped tightly in his hand, ready for his father to come at him in retaliation, but Walter turned and staggered through the middle door and up the stairs, unsteady less from drunkenness than from shock at being the victim of violence for a change. He could be heard ranting: ‘Just you wait. I’ll kill the bleeding lot of yer, just you see.’

  ‘Get our Sadie,’ Ruth demanded. She found Frankie’s trousers, which were almost dry, and helped the trembling child into them. Billy came back into the room with Sadie. The little girl had heard the commotion and went to stand, crying, in front of the fire.

  ‘Come on, get dressed, love.’ Ruth helped her gently into her clothes. ‘Get yer coats on,’ she said to the boys, but Billy, unable to contain his emotions any longer, had already gone out into the bitterly cold night, so that he could allow the tears to flow in the darkness, where nobody could see.

  ‘Where are we going, Mam?’ Sadie enquired through her sobs.

  ‘Ssh.’ Ruth held a finger to her lips. ‘We don’t want him to know.’

  ‘Are we running away?’ Frankie asked, still shaken, but excited now that something unusual was happening. ‘Has our Billy killed him?’

  ‘No, love, he hasn’t killed him.’

  ‘I wish he had. I wish he would bleed to death, do you, Sadie?’

  ‘Yes.’ Sadie agreed as usual with anything her brother suggested.

  Ruth wrapped the baby warmly in her pram, which had long ago seen better days, and opened the door. ‘Come on,’ she said, and turned down the lamp. Forlornly, the little family ventured into the night.

  ‘Are you ready for going up, lass?’ Joe Jackson said. ‘It’s getting late.’

  ‘Aye, Joe, I won’t be a minute,’ Alice said. ‘I’ve nearly finished.’

  ‘What yer reading this time, lass?’

  ‘My favourite.’

  ‘Not again! You must know the parable of the good Samaritan off by heart. Don’t you ever get fed up of reading the Bible?’

  ‘Never.’

  ‘Why don’t yer read something a bit more cheerful for a change?’

  ‘I get more than enough cheer out of the Good Book, thanks, without needing a change.’

  ‘It seems a bit sanctimonious if you want my opinion.’

  ‘Nobody’s asking for thi opinion.’

  ‘Aye well, if yer’ve nearly finished, I’ll be locking up.’

  The peaceful atmosphere of the living room was suddenly shattered by a loud knocking on the door.

  ‘Who the hell can that be on a perishing night like this?’ Joe mumbled.

  ‘I’ll bet it’s our Ruth again. Nobody else’d be out at this time of night, only somebody who were desperate.’

  Joseph’s voice could be heard from his bedroom. ‘What’s up, Mam? Is me Uncle Walter having blue ’uns again?’

  ‘Go back to sleep, lad. It’s nigh on eleven,’ Joe called as he opened the door. ‘Come on in, lass. Don’t stand there shivering on the step like that.’

  Ruth lifted little Margaret out of the pram and pushed the twins in before her. Alice’s heart missed a beat at the sight of the pathetic little group standing by the door.

  ‘Come on, Sadie love, and you, Frankie, up to the fire. It’s a wonder you haven’t got hot aches in yer fingers and toes.’ Joe went towards Ruth. ‘Give us
hold of the baby, lass.’

  ‘Oh, Ruth love, what’s he done this time? He’s not been hitting thee again, has he?’ Alice said. ‘Come here and sit near the fire. Let’s have a look at thee.’ She examined the red welt on one side of Ruth’s neck, where the buckle from the belt had cut deep. ‘Eeh, lass, he’s made a right mess of thee this time. I’ll get a bowl and some iodine.’ Alice went through to the kitchen and came back with a bottle of iodine and some cotton wool. Then she returned to the kitchen for some hot water from the kettle. Ruth squirmed as the iodine touched the wound.

  ‘Oh, Alice, he’s like a madman. He’s beaten our Frankie – you’d better see to his back first. God knows what would have happened if our Billy hadn’t turned on him. ‘Oh, Joe, our Billy’s stabbed him in the arm with his penknife. There’s blood all over the place.’

  Young Joseph didn’t like to think he was missing anything. ‘Can I come down, Mam? I might as well with all the racket going on. I’ll never get to sleep.’

  ‘No yer can’t,’ Joe shouted back. ‘Get yer head under the bedclothes and shut up.’ He turned to Ruth and asked softly, ‘What started him off this time, lass?’

  ‘He came home from the Rag, ranting and raving about me having a man in the house. I told him it was only Jack Dolan getting dried after saving our Frankie from drowning. Then he said if I had started entertaining men in the house I might as well start charging them for the privilege, said I was sitting on a gold mine. He meant it, Alice, he really did.’ Ruth broke off in sobs.

  ‘Eeh, lass, it’d be the drink that was talking.’ Alice went to the kitchen. ‘I’ll make a pot of tea. Has tha eaten owt?’

  ‘Eaten owt? That’s a laugh! I’ve had all on to feed the kids, what with my laundry money paying for a bag of coal.’

  ‘But it’s the day after pay day, lass. Surely tha’s some food in the house? He should have been paid.’

  ‘Oh, he’ll have been paid all right, and taken it straight to the Rag. I doubt there’ll be much left of it, and if there is I shan’t be seeing it. I can’t take much more of it, Alice. You don’t know what he’s like.’

  ‘We all know what he’s like. I’ll swing for him one of these days, I swear I will.’

  ‘Don’t say that, Joe,’ Alice said. ‘He deserves his come-uppance and he’ll get it one of these days, but it’ll be God who gives it to him, not thee.’

  Ruth began crying again. ‘God!’ she spluttered. ‘Don’t talk to me about God! If there is such a one, which I very much doubt, He’s a queer way of looking after us.’

  Alice backed away from her sister, a look of horror on her face. ‘Eeh, Ruth, our grandmother would turn in her grave if she could hear thee talking like that. And after the way our dad’s brought thee up to go to chapel and all. With all the scripture exams tha got through tha should know that God meant us to suffer in this world to reap our rewards in the next.’

  ‘Then it’s a bloody cruel way of carrying on,’ Joe answered, ‘that’s all I can say.’

  ‘And all I can say is we’ll have less of the swearing.’

  Joe lifted the twins, one in each arm. ‘Come on, me bairns, yer almost asleep on yer feet. Let’s get yer undressed and take a look at that back of yours, Frankie.’

  The little boy forced his eyes open. ‘It’s all right, Uncle Joe, and I’m not tired. I’ve had a ride on the ragman’s cart. I like the ragman. I like him better than me dad. Why didn’t yer marry the ragman instead of me dad, mam? I—’

  Joe interrupted him swiftly. ‘Come on, let’s have yer up to bed. Sadie love, you can go in our bed. Yer mam and Auntie Alice won’t be long before they join yer. We’ll manage for one night with me on the couch.’

  He carried the little ones up the stairs, and Joseph groaned. ‘Oh no! Not again. I always get nits when they come in my bed.’

  ‘Well, he’s coming in whether yer like it or not, so yer’ll just have to sleep with yer head out of bed, won’t yer.’ Joe set off down the stairs. ‘And be quiet or yer’ll get more than nits.’ He reached the bottom and heard Joseph’s voice following him.

  ‘It’s not fair.’

  ‘What was that?’

  ‘Nothing, Dad.’

  Joe came into the living room. ‘Cheeky young bugger. He’s getting spoiled is our Joseph.’

  ‘No, he’s a good lad, Joe.’ Ruth sighed. ‘And he’s right about the nits. I feel right shamed. There’s only Mrs Armitage who seems to bother down the Place. I no sooner get rid of them than one of them picks them up again. I can’t stop them playing with the other kids – it isn’t their fault, poor little mites. It’s nothing but a slum down there. I wish I’d never set eyes on the house. “It’ll put us on,” he said, “until we get something better.” That’s a laugh.’ But she didn’t laugh. She cried as though her heart would break.

  ‘Tha should never have married him, lass. Our mam told thee no good would come of marrying a heathen.’

  ‘Oh, don’t start yer preaching again, Alice. Your Ruth knows she made a mistake without you rubbing it in. Besides, they’re not all perfect that goes to chapel. Bloody self-righteous hypocrites some of ’em are. Where’s our Billy, then?’

  ‘I don’t know. He ran outside. He’ll be frightened to death, I shouldn’t wonder. He could be anywhere.’

  ‘I’ll go find him.’

  Alice looked alarmed. ‘Be careful, Joe!’

  ‘Don’t worry, lass. A woman and child may be no match for yon monster, but this time he’s gone too far. By the time I’ve done with him he won’t hit yer again, lass; not for a while, any road. Let me get my belt off and he’s due for a dose of his own medicine.’

  Old Mother knew she wouldn’t be on this earth for many more days. In fact the dizziness and drowsiness of the last few hours had caused her to drift off to a faraway place. She had seen a vision, an angel with outstretched hands and the face of her long lost sweetheart. If only she could float away into the welcoming arms and leave this exhausting world behind her. If only there was not something holding her back. Old Mother was confused. Her affairs were all in order. Olive had been taught all there was to know and was well prepared for her old friend’s death. ‘Don’t grieve for me, little one,’ the girl had been told. ‘I’ll be going to a far better place than this, if you axe me.’ But there was something she must do, and regretfully she had returned to her old, worn body. She dozed fitfully, uneasy about something but not knowing what. Oh well, she supposed she would find out sooner or later. She hoped it would be sooner, for she was tired, and ready for Heaven. The wall clock chimed twelve and she slept at last.

  * * *

  Joe slithered and slipped on the iced-over cobbles as he made his way to Wire Mill Place. He could make out a figure sitting hunched on Mrs Armitage’s doorstep. ‘Billy lad, is that you?’

  ‘Hmm.’

  ‘Hitch up and let me sit beside yer. By gum, this doorstep’s cold. Are yer all right?’

  ‘I think so. I slipped flat on me back when I ran out and banged me head. I went all dizzy, but I’m all right.’

  ‘Where’s yer dad?’

  ‘He’s not me dad. He’s an animal.’

  ‘Nay, lad, it’s the beer that makes him like that.’

  ‘No it isn’t. He’s always the same. He doesn’t love any of us, not even the little ones. I spent all day last Saturday down in the wood, trying to find enough branches to make a fence, to stop the twins going down by the water. Then the first thing Sunday morning he chopped them all up for firewood. He won’t even buy a bag of coal. Sometimes me mam can’t even light a fire to heat the water to do the washing, let alone keep the little ’uns warm.’ Billy began to sob as though his heart would break.

  ‘Don’t fret yerself, lad.’ Joe put an arm round his nephew in an effort to comfort him, but Billy carried on.

  ‘Every penny he earns he takes to the Rag, that’s when he bothers to go to work at all, and there was me mam, working right up to the day our Margaret was born, and again a few days after. It’s
like a washhouse, with the tub and mangle out all the time. She washes for all them idle lot up in the big houses, and for next to nowt. Why did she marry him, Uncle Joe?’

  ‘Nay, lad, I’ll be buggered if I know. Perhaps she were just rebelling against yer grandad. Chapel three times on a Sunday, Bible classes during the week. She never did take to all that religion like yer Auntie Alice did. I suppose she was looking for something more exciting. Besides, yer dad put on a good side at first – took her to the theatre and that. And he was handsome, nobody could deny that. But I never thought she would up and marry him. I don’t think yer grandma has ever got over it. They say love is blind, but it was a right eye-opener when she found out what he was really like.’

  ‘She wouldn’t have a rag to her back if it wasn’t for me Auntie Alice and Auntie Mary Hampshire. Our Sadie even had to go to school with her toes sticking out of the hole in her shoe last week. Everybody laughed except the teacher, who gave her another pair. They were two sizes too big, but better than nowt. No wonder she’s got chilblains.’

  ‘You should have told me. I’d have bought her a pair of shoes, you know I would.’

  ‘Me mam didn’t want you to know, she was too ashamed. It’s his fault. I wish he was dead.’

  ‘Nay, lad, don’t turn all bitter. He’s not worth it.’

  ‘He hit me mam when she had our Margaret in her arms. He almost hit her too.’

  ‘Where is he, lad?’

  ‘In the closet. To be sick I expect, filthy pig.’

  Billy had no sooner got the words out than the creak of the closet door reached their ears.

  ‘He’s coming out. Don’t let him see me.’ Billy moved closer to Joe.

  ‘Stop yer trembling, lad. He won’t see yer. He’ll be too drunk, and if he does he’ll have me to deal with.’

  Then the sound of Walter Wray’s boots seemed to change direction and instead of walking towards the house the footsteps clattered and slithered in the direction of the river. Suddenly there was a cry, followed by a huge splash.

  Billy started to his feet, but Joe’s hand on his shoulder restrained him. ‘What’s up, lad?’ he said. ‘Sit yerself down.’