When he had finally gone, she took the quickest bath ever, acutely aware of her nakedness in the cold draughts of her own kitchen. As she hurried through the weekly ritual, she kept half an ear tuned to the sound of the front door. As if sensing her unease but misjudging the reason, Big Flo touched her gently on the shoulder and offered to wash her hair.
‘You need to come to, lass. This jumping at shadows cant go on. Our Matt’s gone, bless him, and all you can do is look forward to the day you meet him again. Till then, you have the childer to think of. And yourself.’
As Big Flo washed and dried her hair, Polly knew that the old woman was right. Day after day Joshua had continued to devise ways of humiliating her. He’d kept her half senseless with the sleeping powders, constantly criticised her and undermined her confidence. Whether she was scrubbing a step or peeling vegetables, he loved to find fault and point out how useless and inadequate she was. If all else failed, he would taunt her over her parents and the bleakness of her childhood. He even used his power over her daughter to hold her in check.
Polly felt as if she was pitched in a daily battle against him, yet couldn’t for the life of her work out why, or what the reason for the war could possibly be.
She wished that Charlie had waited, or at least that she could find some way to see him. Remembering how lively and kind he had been, she ached for his friendship, for the chance to talk to him again. Secretly, deep inside, it had felt good to be reminded that she was a woman, young and perhaps even still attractive. Of course she wasn’t for a moment contemplating anything improper between them, but for those few moments in his company she’d felt alive again.
She suddenly longed to tell all of this to Eileen, who she hadn’t seen in ages despite her friend living next door. Polly couldn’t remember the last time she’d talked to a woman of her own age, one who could understand how she felt. Polly knew she was done with grieving, must resolutely set aside that sense of emptiness left after Matthew’s death. She longed to be in charge of her own life again, as she’d once been. But somehow this final step still eluded her.
Finding a job so that she could be independent of Joshua was becoming her chief concern. At first she hadn’t cared about the loss of her business. Now Polly began to wonder if she’d thrown away her only life-line. She had no money, except for a few coins she’d kept tucked under the floorboards. The rest had been used to help feed them over the last year. She didn’t even have any furniture of her own to sell to raise fresh capital. It all belonged to Big Flo and Joshua. She was trapped in a state of dependence and destitution.
As these thoughts raced through her head, Polly only half listened to Big Flo’s homely wisdom. And the memory of Joshua’s burning eyes haunted her all through that endless night.
The next afternoon, it being a Saturday, Terence was off down to the dogs. Eileen had finished her chores early for once and was feeling in need of a bit of company. She’d tried on numerous occasions to see Polly, but to no avail for some weeks now. Today she meant to succeed.
Gathering up her squabbling children and dragging Beryl away from nibbling coal from the scuttle, she set out with her brood in tow, one of the twins draped about her neck as usual - and bumped slap-bang into a man in a blue reefer jacket. He was half bent down and she ran into him frill tilt, knocking her nose against his shoulder in the process.
‘Dear Lord, where did you come from?’ she yelled, putting a hand to her nose to see if it was bleeding. Her eyes filled with tears of pain and she could see nothing but a blur. Meryl, still clinging fast round her neck, had acted like a cushion and simply bounced off him. Even so she began to yell and the man was all concern, insisting he check that the children were unharmed.
‘It was my fault,’ he admitted. ‘I was bending to tie up me laces. I never saw you coming.’ Charlie had in fact been trying to peep around the half-open door of number twenty-three, to see if the man was working in the front parlour, as he so often was. But he could see only the green curtain that shielded the vestibule from the rest of the house, no sign of anyone. Despite hours of careful watching he still hadn’t clapped eyes on Polly. He was becoming seriously worried.
‘D’you know next door?’ he asked, as he helped Eileen back on her feet and dusted down a green frock that had seen better days. She knocked away his hands as if they scalded her.
‘Now why would I?’ she commented with biting irony.
‘I mean, the girl - the woman - what lives there. Polly? I forget her last name.’
Eileen gave him a suspicious look through narrowed eyes. ‘What would you be wanting with Polly? How come you know her, anyroad? She’s never mentioned you.’
‘We met on a tram. Well, not quite on a tram, waiting for a tram. She’d no coat and I lent her mine. I didn’t want her to catch cold, see. But she didn’t even catch the tram.’
Eileen, struggling to make sense of this garbled tale, decided he was three-‘apence short of a shilling, abandoned the effort and turned to go.
He followed her. ‘Tell her I’m here, will you? Tell her I’m still waiting.’ And there was in his open friendly face such sincerity, such intensity in his soft brown gaze that Eileen found herself nodding. She was filled suddenly with curiosity about this pleasant young chap, who seemed harmless enough for all he was clearly daft as a brush.
‘Happen I will. If I get chance. Why don’t you come to mine for a cup of tea and tell me what it is you want me to say to her?’
Joshua had chosen this as the day to make his move because Big Flo was once again minding Betty Sidebottom while her sister Nellie was out at work. Putting on his jacket and hat, he informed Polly that he had business to attend to.
‘You’ll be perfectly safe here alone, although its a pity you don’t get out more,’ he told her, in his most amiable voice. ‘Why not refrain from taking a powder today? You might feel well enough to visit the market or take a walk to Oldham Street and meet up with your old cronies. Like that hawker friend of yours. What was his name? Charlie something or other?’
Joshua waited for her to supply the name. When she remained silent, he doffed his hat and left, smiling to himself for he knew she would be unable to resist the temptation.
Polly couldn’t remember the last time she had been to the market, nor Oldham Street. How she missed all the lively rivalry and camaraderie of the other hawkers. But why would Joshua suddenly be happy for her to go out when he’d always been entirely against it? She was still staring at the closed front door, puzzling over this as Eileen came in by the back.
Disentangling herself from her children, she hugged Polly as if they’d been parted for a lifetime, which was exactly how it felt. ‘I saw the bugger leave. Thank God they’re all out for once, and I’ve got you to myself at last.’
The shadows in Polly’s eyes seemed to clear as she smiled at her old friend. ‘Oh, Eileen, I’m so glad you’re here. I don’t see enough of you these days. Of anyone in fact. You wouldn’t believe how I’ve missed you.’
The younger woman flushed with pleasure. ‘Same here. And I’m dying to hear all your news.’
Eileen plonked herself down on the horse-hair sofa. Provided by Big Flo, it was almost a replica of the one Polly had sold to finance her carpet business. Sitting on its prickly surface brought to mind the long hours the pair of them had spent sewing, and the desperate efforts she was still making to hold on to Polly’s business while knowing it could easily slip through her fingers. It was hard, what with the children always under her feet, and Terence as much use as a wet lettuce. But she was making a profit, just about, if not as much as Polly would have done, simply because she didn’t have her knack for spotting a bargain. It was such a shame!
Even so, Eileen didn’t want to bother her with these problems, not just yet. She could manage for a while longer. First, Polly must be encouraged to get properly back on her feet, and to cheer up. How to do that? Then she remembered the eager young suitor she’d just met. Happen he was exactly what the doctor ordered.
> ‘Who’s this chap who keeps hanging about? I’ve just cannoned into him and gave him a cuppa. He told me how you two met. Not exactly the stuff of Elinor Glyn, but it had my insides turning to mush.’
Polly felt her cheeks start to burn, not knowing whether to be thrilled or fearful that Charlie had been round again. ‘Ach, I’ve only met him the once, but when we talked it was as if we were old friends. I liked him.’
But for all Joshua’s remarks before he’d left, Polly guessed he’d have a fit if she started seeing a man. ‘Not that Joshua must find out, you understand? He’d think the worst, wouldn’t he just?’
‘My lips are sealed,’ Eileen said, making some ribald remark about what she could do with such a grand-looking chap so that both women were soon giggling just like they used to. When they’d both calmed down, Polly tried to explain.
‘It’s just that every time I go out, doesn’t himself bring me home again? He means well but he’s too - protective - I suppose.’
‘Possessive, more like. Nay, love, you can’t go on like this. You have to break free.’
‘Aw, indeed, I’m doing me best to get going again, really I am, Eileen. The trouble is, I owe Joshua so much. The care he took of the children and . . .’
‘You owe him nowt. Get out there, girl, and live.’ The sound of Eileen’s cheerfully irreverent tones brought Polly to fits of laughter again. She hadn’t felt so cheerful since that day at the tram stop and her meeting with Charlie Stockton.
‘He doesn’t think I’m well enough.’
‘Bugger that for a lark! Here, I’ve an idea. Give us that shawl.’ And grabbing Polly’s brown shawl from the back of the chair, Eileen pulled it over her own head, ‘Now, have you a spare skirt? He’d know me a mile off in this green frock, but in one of your skirts, he’d think I was you. Then he could follow me to Kingdom come, and you could go off and enjoy yourself for a change. You could find this chap o’ yours and fix yourself up, why don’t you?’ Soon they were laughing and giggling again, like young girls planning a secret assignation.
Eileen’s change of clothes took no more than a moment, then while Polly slipped quietly out of the back door, smartly dressed in her best coat and hat, her friend walked out of the front, bold as brass, but with the shawl closely tucked close about her head. After a moment, a figure slipped out of the shadows and followed her.
It was chilling to think that Joshua had shown such an interest in Charlie. There was something in his manner these days which set all Polly’s nerves jangling. He’d only tried to help her through the worst of her grieving, but still his attitude bothered her. It was as if he resented any sign of her recovery. Yet life must go on. There were still times when Matthew’s death seemed like only yesterday, at others, like today, it felt more like half a lifetime.
As she searched for Charlie, a strange bud of excitement began to unfurl deep inside, and Polly wondered at herself. What was she doing seeking out a man she’d met only once? Even if she found him, she must make it clear they were but friends, and he must never come to the house again. She wasn’t sure quite why, but it felt vitally important that Joshua must never discover him.
Ancoats Lane was thronged with people and heavy with traffic as she walked along feeling oddly shaky and uncertain, legs trembling slightly. But Polly was determined not to give in to a panic attack today, not after Eileen’s generous offer to change places. And didn’t she feel more herself again? At last she turned the corner at New Cross and reached Oldham Street. She meant to walk the length of that too, chatting with old friends. Perhaps this would help build her confidence and make her want to be back amongst them. After that she’d go on down to Piccadilly and perhaps London Road Station. She’d no idea where Charlie might be. All she could do was look and ask around. Even if she didn’t find him, the walk would do her good.
She loved the breeze in her hair, the beguiling scents of the fruit and vegetable market, the appetising aroma of a hot chestnut stall which recalled that long ago Christmas. They’d managed to make happiness out of nothing in those days. She must learn to do so again. Wasn’t she too young to give up on life? Even the hum of traffic thrilled her, and people going about their daily affairs in the city centre. It felt good to be out and about again, Polly decided. Time indeed to start living again.
Chapter Nineteen
She found Charlie, surprisingly enough, manning a hand cart not far from where her own used to be. Only his was much bigger, pulled by a pony, and he was doing a roaring trade in fruit and vegetables. She stood and watched him for a while, since he was too occupied with customers to talk, looking every bit as cheerful as she remembered. He was weighing rosy apples and teasing a customer.
‘Now then, no complaints. Only four apples make a pound. We don’t use wooden weights here.’
‘Nay, the only wood is in thy head,’ said the greedy customer. His hair had grown and was curling wildly but he was still wearing his reefer jacket, navy blue serge trousers tied just below the knee, and boots, not clogs, on his feet. They were highly polished, Polly noticed, for all the soles were caked with straw. She watched his rolling gait as he moved about the stall serving people, remembering his talk of years in the Merchant Navy. It came to her then that for all he’d told her quite a lot about himself in their first brief meeting, Polly wanted, needed, to know so much more.
‘Hello!’ she said at last, when finally he stopped to draw breath. His delight at seeing her seemed so entirely genuine she was sure it couldn’t be just her imagination.
‘Polly!’ He took a step towards her then paused, uncertain, wiping his hands on the backs of his trousers. ‘Are you all right? I mean, are you feeling better?’
She nodded, finding herself smiling at his eagerness. ‘A little. And you?’
‘I’ve been sick too.’
She was at once all concern. ‘Why, what’s been the matter?’
‘Heartsick,’ he said, throwing caution to the winds. ‘I thought you didn’t ever want to set eyes on me again. I’ve stood outside your house waiting for a glimpse of you for weeks.’
Polly gazed at him, wide-eyed with astonishment and concern as she watched a tide of crimson flow up his neck and into his cheeks. She sensed her own face was as red. ‘You never did?’
‘I did too. I just needed to see you were all right. I couldn’t stop worrying about you.’
‘I heard you came once, but not that you’d haunted the place.’ She gazed at him in disbelief, lips pursed, and finally burst into laughter. ‘You’re telling me porkies! I don’t believe a word of it.’ Her own happiness startled her, making her feel suddenly guilty for standing here laughing with this man who was little more than a stranger.
‘It’s true.’ He looked hurt by her doubts, and she longed to reassure him but the words simply wouldn’t come. His hand upon her arm was making her feel quite odd and panicky again, a sensation like cramp gripping her stomach. What was the matter with her?
Even as Charlie frantically sought a way to press his case and keep her with him, a woman approached the barrow, bristling as she poked him in the ribs with her basket.
‘Are you serving or what, you? I can allus take me custom elsewhere, young man.’
‘Aye, I’m serving. Hold your horses, love, till I settle me future with this lovely lady, then I’m all yours,’ Charlie said. The moment he’d released Polly to speak to the customer, she’d begun to edge away.
‘Get away with you.’ The woman was laughing despite herself.
‘Don’t go yet. Please, Polly. It’s not my stall. I’m only minding it for a mate for an hour or two. And we need to talk.’
The woman, who had been taking great interest in their conversation, said, ‘For pity’s sake, lass, say you’ll wait, then I can get some taties and a large cabbage for us tea.’
A man carrying a heavy sack jostled Polly, leaving in his wake an overpowering aroma of oranges. For a moment it felt good to be in the market again, as if she were back amongst her own people.
Then she caught a glimpse of a shadowy figure hovering in a doorway and felt certain it must be Joshua. Sweat sprang to the palms of her hands, and her vision blurred as if seeing the scene through tinted glasses. Was he following her? If so, why? Charlie was still desperately trying to rid himself of the talkative customer while Polly felt hemmed in, trapped, almost claustrophobic, and filled with an unreasoning fear.
Why had she come? What was the urgent message she’d needed to give him? Oh, yes, of course. ‘If it’s true, about you hanging around Dove Street,’ she said, backing away, ‘you’ve got to stop it, d’you hear? That’s what I came to tell you. Don’t come again. Joshua doesn’t like it. Now I have to go.’
Polly turned, pushing her way through the crowds with a desperation that swiftly robbed her of breath and brought a pain to her breast, clogs slipping on soggy cabbage leaves and debris scattered underfoot. She could hear Charlie’s voice calling to her, making her run all the faster. Then he had hold of her arms and was asking - no, insisting - that she meet him the next day, in the little market cafe.
A voice in her head told her she could not go, but somehow she had to make him release her since Joshua might walk by at any minute, as he had done once before at the tram stop. He would be even angrier at seeing her with Charlie this time than he had been back then. With Lucy and Benny, as well as herself. She couldn’t risk him venting his anger upon her children, or Lucy again being locked in her room for hours on end for no real reason.
She found herself agreeing to Charlie’s demands, saying anything to make him release her, so that he’d go back to serving his neglected customers and she could escape. He squeezed her hands one last time before letting her slip away into the crowds.
Polly did not stop running until she’d reached her own front door, flung herself inside and slammed it safely shut behind her. Gasping for breath and clutching a painful stitch in her side, she recalled the desperate agony in Charlie’s face as she had run from him. Whatever had possessed her to seek him out? What would Matthew think of her, almost throwing herself at another man when she was still grieving for Matthew? But she couldn’t grieve forever, and she’d only been offered a chance of friendship, what was so wrong with that? Now she had lost that chance. Upon these confused thoughts, she burst into tears.
Polly's Pride Page 21
