by Joan Jonker
‘It’s not a good sign, I’m afraid,’ John said. ‘They only allow visitors to stay until this time if the patient is on an urgent note.’
‘That’s all Mary needs, isn’t it? Just one thing after another for her.’ Dot looked across at Billy, settled comfortably on the couch next to Katy. ‘I think you’d better go home, sunshine, it’s work tomorrow. And if yer mam is waiting up for yer she’ll be cursing me up hill and down dale for keeping her from her bed.’
‘Yeah, I’ll make tracks.’ Billy yawned and stretched. ‘I hate Monday, it’s the worst day of the week.’
‘If yer went to one of the wash-houses yer’d find all the women agree with yer. Monday’s wash-day in most homes, which is no joke if yer’ve got half a dozen kids. And those that aren’t in the wash-house will be down at the pawnshop getting a few bob on their husband’s Sunday trousers or shoes.’ Dot grinned at the boy who was like a second son to her. ‘So yer see, sunshine, ye’re not on yer own – everybody hates Monday.’
Billy returned her grin. ‘I don’t think me mam goes to the pawnshop now, not with all of us working.’ He patted his trouser leg. ‘But just to be on the safe side, I’ll put these under me bed tonight.’
‘I’ll see Billy out, Mam,’ Katy said, ‘then I think I’ll go straight up. I’d like to wait for Mrs Campbell but I can’t keep me eyes open.’
‘You go to bed, love, yer’ll be on yer feet all day tomorrow. Ta-ra, Billy, sleep well.’
‘Ta-ra, Mrs Baker. Ta-ra, Mr Kershaw.’
After Katy had seen Billy out, she came back into the room to give her mother a good-night kiss. ‘Did yer tell Mr Kershaw what yer said about him, Mam?’
Dot feigned surprise. ‘No, what was that, sunshine?’
‘Oh you, Mam, you’re awful!’ Katy turned to John and although her nostrils weren’t flared, he’d swear they weren’t far from it. ‘Me mam was supposed to tell yer something and she didn’t, did she?’
‘Do you mean did she tell me I was very generous, thoughtful, caring, kind, compassionate and lovable?’
Katy’s jaw dropped. ‘She didn’t tell yer all that, did she?’
John looked to where Dot was sitting, eyes and mouth wide. He chuckled. ‘No, she didn’t say all that – just that I was generous and thoughtful. But I know she meant all the other things; she was just too shy to say so.’
On impulse, Katy bent and kissed his cheek. ‘Well, I’m not shy and I think ye’re all those things, so there.’ She left the room feeling very satisfied with herself for saying what she thought. He was a nice man and there was no getting away from it.
‘Ye’re doing well for kisses, John Kershaw,’ Dot laughed. ‘Yer can’t beat it, can yer? Two in one day – that’s good going, that is.’
‘That’s two more than I usually get.’ The words were just out when they heard a light tapping on the window and John jumped to his feet. ‘This will be Mary, I’ll go.’
Dot followed him to the hall and as soon as she saw her neighbour’s face she held her arms wide, and Mary walked into them, her loud sobs telling of her heartache. ‘Me dad’s dead, Dot, he’s gone and I’ll never see him again.’
‘There, there, sunshine.’ Dot held the shaking body close for a few seconds before leading her into the living room. She pressed Mary’s head on to her shoulder and, stroking her hair, she rocked her gently. ‘You have a good cry, sunshine, and get it out of yer system. John will make yer a drink, and when ye’re ready, yer can tell us all about it.’
‘He died an hour after I got there.’ Her voice was choked, her words muffled. ‘One hour, that’s all I had with him.’
Dot could feel the dampness of Mary’s tears through her dress as she comforted her. Her heart was full of pity, knowing that once her neighbour left here tonight there’d be no arms to comfort her, no one to offer soothing words of sympathy. ‘Did yer dad know yer were there, sunshine?’
‘Me mam and me brothers were there, they said he was unconscious. But when I got hold of his hand and bent over him to tell him it was me and that I loved him, I felt him squeeze me hand and he seemed to smile. One of me brothers, our Gordon, said I was imagining it, but I know I wasn’t. And me mam said she saw it, too.’
‘Of course yer weren’t imagining it. Your dad would know you were there, take my word for it.’ Dot looked over Mary’s shoulder to see John standing in the kitchen doorway. ‘Dry yer eyes, sunshine, and have a cup of tea. I’ll get yer something to wipe yer face.’
John came forward, his outstretched hand holding his hankie. ‘Here you are, Mary. I’ve only used it to wipe your lipstick off my cheek.’
Mary sniffed up as she took the hankie. ‘Thank you.’
‘Sit down and I’ll pour the tea.’ Dot waited until Mary was settled and then bustled out to the kitchen. A faint smile hovered around her mouth when she saw John had set out three cups and saucers in readiness, and a knitted tea cosy was keeping the pot warm. ‘Mmm,’ she said softly, ‘generous, thoughtful and ruddy domesticated.’
Mary sipped at her tea, her hands wrapped around the cup for warmth. ‘I’m sorry I’ve kept yer up so late, but me mam was in a terrible state so we all went home with her. Our Gordon is sleeping there tonight, just to keep an eye on her. She’s out of her mind; it all happened so quick she can’t take it in.’
‘What was wrong with yer dad, sunshine? Had he been ailing?’
Mary shook her head. ‘He’s never been sick, me dad, never had a day off work in his life. Me mam said he was fine, he’d eaten his dinner and told her he’d enjoyed it. Then he went into the kitchen with his plate and the next thing me mam hears a loud crash. She rushed into the kitchen to find me dad lying on the floor. He was just staring at her, couldn’t talk or move. She was terrified out of her wits and ran for the man next door. He lifted me dad on to the couch and then went for the doctor. It was a severe stroke, the doctor said, and had the ambulance there within twenty minutes.’
‘I’m sorry, sunshine, I really am. Sorry for you and yer family.’
‘It must have been terrible for your mother,’ John said. ‘Such a shock.’
‘That’s what I’m frightened of – the shock could kill her. They were very close, me mam and dad. One never went anywhere without the other.’
‘You and yer brothers will have to take care of her for a while, make sure she’s not left on her own for any length of time.’
‘I’m going up there tomorrow, as soon as Tom leaves for work. I’ll stay with her during the day, then one of me brothers will take over at night.’
‘Will your feller be waiting up for yer, to see what happened?’
‘You are joking, aren’t yer? No, there was no light on when I passed, so he must have gone to bed. I’m glad because I couldn’t put up with his taunts. I know what’ll happen when I tell him me dad’s dead. He’ll laugh his head off and jump for joy.’
Dot snorted. ‘He’s a devil’s disciple, that man. And that’s where he’ll end up, in the fires of hell.’
Mary stared down into her cup, and when she spoke her voice was low, as though she was talking to herself. ‘If I had one wish, I’d wish me dad back. If I had two wishes, I’d wish Tom Campbell dead. I never in me life thought it was possible to hate anyone as much as I hate him right now. When I think of all the time I could have spent with me dad over the years, but I wasn’t allowed because my husband forbade me. And I, the weak stupid person that I am, I was too frightened of him to go against his orders. Now me dad’s gone, I’ll never be able to make up those lost years and never be able to tell him how sorry I am.’
Dot swallowed the lump in her throat before saying, ‘Listen, sunshine, I’m not a religious person, as yer know, but I believe that when a person dies they can look down on us from heaven and know how we feel. They watch over us, like. So your dad will know exactly what ye’re thinking and how yer feel.’
‘I hope so.’ Mary could feel the tears stinging the back of her eyes and she bent to put her cup on the floor. Th
ese people had been very good to her; she didn’t want to inflict her sorrow and worry on them any more. ‘I’ve kept you up long enough. I’ll go home now and let yer get to bed.’
‘Are yer sure yer feel up to it?’ Dot looked anxious. ‘I can fix yer up here, on the couch, if yer like.’
‘No, I’ll be all right. I’ll settle meself down in the living room and cry the rest of these tears away. I’ve got to be strong for me mam, tomorrow. And I’ve made up me mind that if Tom does ask me, I’ll look straight through him. I won’t give him the satisfaction of knowing that me dad’s dead. In fact, I’ll let him rot in hell before I tell him anything about my family. He’s not fit to lick their shoes.’
‘Aren’t yer going to change yer clothes?’ Dot asked. ‘I thought yer said yer wanted to change back into yer old things.’
‘That was when I was still frightened of Tom Campbell. He means nothing to me now. He can go to hell and back for all I care.’
‘I’ll see you safely inside the house, Mary, then I’ll make my own way home.’ John sighed as he took his coat down off the hook. ‘If Dot doesn’t mind, I’ll call in tomorrow night and she can tell me how things are.’
‘What d’yer mean, if Dot doesn’t mind?’ Dot’s hand went to her hips and her head tipped sideways. ‘Yer’d still come whether I say yea or nay!’
‘Yes, but it would be nice to be invited.’ She looked so appealing, John wondered what he’d have to do to make her hold him as she’d held Mary. ‘Am I invited?’
‘John, ye’re here that often, ye’re practically part of the ruddy furniture. Of course yer can come, yer big daft ha’porth.’ She pushed him aside so she could give Mary a hug and a kiss. ‘If yer need anything, let me know when I pass your porridge over in the morning. Otherwise, slip in when yer get back from yer mam’s and let us know how things are. And for heaven’s sake don’t worry yer head over money. There’s things yer’ll need, but me and Betty and Maggie will see yer right, so don’t fret.’ She jerked her head to John. ‘Go on, big boy, see the lady home.’
And as the tall man ushered the smartly-dressed but tragic young woman out of the home, Dot’s smile quickly faded. If anyone had their bellyful of trouble it was Mary. Catching sight of her reflection in the mirror, Dot pulled a face – it’s a great life if you don’t weaken.
‘That’ll be Mr Kershaw, Colin, open the door to him.’
The boy’s face lit up and he couldn’t get to the door quick enough. ‘Hello, Mr Kershaw, me mam said it would be you.’
John was smiling as he came in the room. ‘Oh, she did, did she? Now, I know she can’t see through walls, so I wonder how she knew?’
‘Because I could set the clock by yer, that’s how.’ Dot had slipped her shoes off and was relaxing on the couch. It was hard going standing all day on a concrete floor watching the machines winding the thread on the cones, and she was now giving her feet a well-earned rest. ‘Eight o’clock, on the dot, it couldn’t be anyone else but you.’
‘Don’t move, stay where you are.’ John hung his coat up and grinned at her. ‘You look so comfortable it would be a shame to disturb you.’
‘No, I’ve got to make a move.’ Dot slid her legs over the side of the couch and slipped her feet into her shoes. ‘Betty and Maggie are coming to see if Mary needs anything for the funeral. Maggie’s got a black coat she can borrow, so that’s one less thing she’ll have to worry about.’
‘Have you seen Mary, then?’
‘Yeah, she called just after I got in. She wouldn’t stay because the queer feller was due in for his tea, but she said the funeral’s on Friday. Her brother took a couple of hours off work and did all the running around, getting the death certificate, seeing the insurance man and arranging things with the undertakers. She said if Tom goes out for a pint she’ll pop in tonight, if not, tomorrow night.’
Colin was perched as usual on the arm of John’s chair, his elbow resting on the big man’s shoulder. ‘Are we still going to the pictures on Saturday, Mr Kershaw?’
‘I think so, unless your mother’s changed her mind.’
‘My son is a bit like you in one respect,’ Dot said. ‘He has a way of getting round me. If I said we weren’t going to the pictures, I’d never hear the end of it. Me life wouldn’t be worth living.’
‘There’s your answer,’ John told the smiling boy. ‘Saturday night at the pictures is on.’
‘I’ll pay for meself, Mr Kershaw. It’ll only be half-price for me.’
‘If your mother will forget her pride for once, I’d like it to be my treat.’
‘Uh, uh! We all pay for ourselves, John, otherwise we don’t go.’
‘Would you really let me go to the pictures on my own, on my birthday?’
Dot narrowed her eyes and tilted her head. ‘If ye’re having me on, John Kershaw, I’ll knock yer ruddy block off.’
John chuckled. ‘I have a healthy respect for your temper, D.D. – I wouldn’t dream of having you on. My birthday is on Sunday, but I’d like to celebrate it on Saturday by taking you and your family and friends to the pictures.’ He decided to go for her sympathy, see if he had as much success as others did. ‘You wouldn’t condemn me to spending my birthday in solitary confinement, would you?’
‘Nah, me mam’s not like that,’ Colin said. ‘That would be mean, and me mam’s not mean, are yer, Mam?’
‘Yer’ve done it again, John Kershaw! Yer have a happy knack of turning things around so I’m always in the wrong.’ Dot tried to look severe but her eyes were smiling. ‘One of these days I’ll take a leaf out of your book and see how you like it.’
‘If it doesn’t suit you, D.D., I could always alter my birthday to a date that finds favour with you. It is my intention to please you at all times.’
‘I’ve often wondered how a softie like you ever got the job of manager – well, now I know.’ Dot smiled as she played with a lock of her hair. ‘Yer ruddy-well talked them into it. They gave in to yer to shut you up.’
‘Mam!’ Colin was impatient with all this talk, he didn’t know what they were on about, anyway. ‘Are we goin’ to the pictures on Saturday or not?’
‘Yes – on one condition.’
‘Oh dear, here we go.’ John looked up into the boy’s face and winked. ‘Your mother and her conditions.’
‘Ah, ay, Mam! What d’yer mean?’
‘Well, yer wouldn’t like poor Mr Kershaw to be on his own on his birthday, would yer? So we’ll let him treat us on Saturday and we’ll have him to tea on Sunday. How about that?’
‘Yippee! We’re having a party for yer, Mr Kershaw, isn’t that the gear?’
‘It most certainly is, Colin. Your mother is both generous and thoughtful. In fact, I’ll go so far as to say she is also kind, caring, compassionate and, at times, lovable.’
While Colin was trying to figure out why his mother and Mr Kershaw were laughing so much, there was a loud knock on the door. ‘Here comes Betty, with her money-lender’s knock. Open the door to her, sunshine, before the knocker comes off in her hand.’
‘Oh aye!’ Betty breezed in, her wide hips swinging, with Maggie following in her wake. ‘What’s tickled your funny bone, or is it a secret?’
Dot jerked her head and cast her eyes to the ceiling before answering, ‘Blimey, Betty, there’s not a soul in this street allowed to have a secret from you. I’ll bet a pound to a pinch of snuff that yer even know how many shirts Judy had on her washing line today.’
Not to be outdone, Betty came back quickly with, ‘Five, smart arse. And I’ll tell yer something else for nothing – one of them wasn’t her husband’s.’
Dot took in the sight of her friend looking every inch a local gossipmonger, with her arms folded and hidden beneath her mountainous bosom, lips pursed and head nodding knowingly.
‘Go ’way!’ Dot decided to play along. She stretched her eyes wide, pouted her lips and folded her arms across her tummy. They didn’t disappear from view like her neighbour’s, but when it came to brea
sts, hers weren’t in the meg specks compared to Betty. ‘Ooh, er, fancy that now! When Judy goes to Confession on Wednesday night she won’t half have some explaining to do about whose shirt it was.’
‘I can tell the priest for her if she’s shy. Yer see, girl, I know who the shirt belongs to.’
‘Well, I never, yer don’t say.’ Dot and Betty were facing each other, both thoroughly enjoying the exchange. While John chuckled softly, Maggie was doubled up with laughter and Colin was wondering what difference it made whose blinking shirt it was. ‘Go on, Betty, yer know anything yer tell us won’t go any further than Bootle and Orrel Park. So start dishing the dirt out, sunshine.’
‘It was Eddy’s. And they needn’t bother telling me any different because I’ve seen the bleedin’ thing on him.’ Betty’s chins rippled in rhythm with her head. ‘Now can yer give me one good reason why his shirt should be hanging on Judy’s line?’
Dot held her chin in her hand, deep in thought. ‘Ooh, that’s a puzzler, all right.’ Then her face cleared. ‘I’ve got it! Because he lives there!’
‘Yer got it in one, girl.’ Betty turned a beaming face to John. ‘She’s not half clever, this landlady of yours.’
‘Just hang on a minute,’ John said, ‘until I get my facts straight. Who is Eddy?’
‘Which Eddy?’
‘The bloke whose shirt was hanging on the line, of course.’
‘Oh, that Eddy! He’s Judy’s eldest son.’
John screwed up his face. ‘Ouch! I walked straight into that, didn’t I?’
Betty turned to Dot, shaking her head. ‘He’s a bit slow, this lodger o’ yours.’
John waited for it and sure enough it came. Hands went on the hips and the head fell sideways as Dot roared, ‘He’s not me flamin’ lodger!’
‘No, I am not her lodger,’ John said, wishing with all his heart that he was so fortunate.
‘Well, yer could have fooled me. I thought yer’d taken root here. Every time I come down ye’re here, and sitting in my bleedin’ chair.’ Betty put on a pained expression. ‘That chair was always reserved for me ’cos it’s the only one I can get me backside off.’
