by Lyn Andrews
‘You don’t have to remind me, Alice. I know what a mess I’ve made of my life,’ Phoebe-Ann flashed back at her friend.
‘I didn’t mean to remind you and you know it. Haven’t I been your best friend through thick and thin?’ Alice looked hurt.
Phoebe-Ann nodded. ‘I’m sorry I snapped at you, but I’m so tired and so sick of . . . Oh, of everything!’
‘There you are then. You need a break and once a week isn’t too much to ask. A few hours on a Sunday night to go to the pictures or maybe for a quiet drink.’
Phoebe-Ann thought about it. Oh, how she longed to have some time to herself, when she could forget about Jake and the terrible life she now lived. Time when perhaps she could dress up, go out and even pretend she was a single girl again, without a care in the world except how she looked. Oh, how long ago those days seemed now and all her youth, all her beauty and vivacity had gone with them. ‘All right, I will.’
Alice began to smile but then, as Phoebe-Ann’s face dropped, she frowned. ‘What’s the matter now?’
‘I haven’t got anything decent to wear.’
‘Can’t you borrow something from your Emily? I know she doesn’t dress in the height of fashion but she’s got some nice things. A bit plain, like, but better than you can afford,’ Ginny said.
That hurt Phoebe-Ann so much that she felt the tears prick her eyes. Ginny was only stating the truth, she thought; she shouldn’t be so sensitive. But everything she had was worn and washed out. She hadn’t had anything new for months. She couldn’t afford to buy anything so she’d have to ask Emily for a loan of something. What would she do without Emily, she thought. Whenever there was a crisis in her life Emily had been there, helping, comforting, supporting. No-one could have a better sister. She wished Albert would go back to Wales and give Emily some freedom and happiness with Edwin.
She called to see her sister on the way home.
‘Have you got time for a cup of tea and a scone?’ Emily asked.
‘Just a quick one. If I don’t get back soon he’ll start ranting and raving.’
‘He’s no better then?’ Emily asked as she pushed the kettle on the hob and began to butter a fresh scone. Albert sat reading the Journal of Commerce to see what ships were due in and if there would be work in the offing. Many ships were lying idle now for times were getting harder. Rhys had written telling him of the miners’ strike and the fact that he was looking for alternative work, so things were just as bad back home.
‘No, although sometimes I can’t help but feel sorry for him. That’s until he starts yelling at me, telling me it’s all my fault.’
‘Take no notice of him. He’s bound to feel like that. Tell him he’s lucky that you do look after him, his ma wouldn’t. That should shut him up.’
‘I do but it doesn’t stop him. In fact it seems to make matters worse.’
‘How are the two old ladies?’
Phoebe-Ann smiled tiredly. ‘Both fine. I love working there, Em, it’s so clean and so quiet.’
‘I know, they’re dear souls.’
‘Miss Nesta often gives me things to take home and so does Cook and last week Miss Millicent slipped me a half crown and told me to get something for myself. She thought I needed cheering up. If only I could stay with them, live in.’ She sighed. ‘I’ve come to ask you a favour. Every time I come here I seem to be asking for something.’
‘Isn’t that what sisters are for? What is it?’
‘Alice has persuaded me to go out with her and Ginny each Sunday night.’
‘It will do you good and surely he can’t object to a few hours.’
‘Alice said we’ll take turns in paying so I will have time to save up a few coppers each week, but I’ve nothing to wear and I can’t afford to buy anything. Most of my stuff I get from old Leiberman’s or down Paddy’s Market.’
Emily felt so sorry for her. Reduced to buying second-hand clothes from the pawnbroker and Paddy’s Market. ‘Of course you can. Go up to my room and pick something, anything.’
‘You really don’t mind then?’
‘Oh, for heaven’s sake, Fee, what is there to “mind” about?’
When she’d gone upstairs Albert looked at Emily. ‘I hope she appreciates you.’
‘I wish I could help her more.’
‘I could give you a few bob if it would help.’
She smiled at him. ‘I could make her a dress. She doesn’t have time to sew. Material doesn’t cost that much. I hate to see her reduced to buying second-hand clothes. Mam would go mad. I know we often had second-hand and even third-hand stuff when we were kids and there was only Mam’s wages to keep us all, but we’re both women now.’
‘Your mam couldn’t have seen how things would turn out, Emily.’
‘No, she couldn’t. Hush, here’s Phoebe-Ann.’
When Phoebe-Ann walked into the kitchen with Emily’s burgundy-coloured two-piece and pale pink blouse wrapped carefully in brown paper, Jake demanded to know where she’d been.
‘I’ve been sitting here by myself for hours. I’m hungry and thirsty but you wouldn’t care about things like that!’
She ignored his complaints and began to spread some dripping on a slice of bread she’d cut from the loaf.
‘I’m sick of bloody dripping, isn’t there anything else?’
‘No, and you’re lucky to get this. My wages aren’t on elastic!’
‘It’s all right for you, you eat up there in Princes Avenue, you don’t eat this muck.’ He knocked her hand away and the plate and the bread fell on the floor.
Phoebe-Ann gritted her teeth and picked it up. ‘You can eat it, muck and all now, because there’s nothing else.’ She slammed the plate down on the low table beside him.
He ignored her words. ‘What’s in the parcel?’
‘Something our Emily lent me.’ She poured the boiling water on to the tea leaves, leaves that had already been used once.
‘What for?’
Phoebe-Ann placed her hands on her hips as though girding her loins for a battle. ‘Because I haven’t got anything decent to go out in, that’s why! Because I spend all my money keeping you!’
He glared up at her. He’d give anything just to get out of this chair for a few seconds. Then he’d show her she couldn’t speak to him like this. All the affection he’d had for her had turned to festering hatred. ‘I said what for?’
‘Because in future I’m going out with Alice and Ginny on a Sunday night, for a few hours away from you and this . . . this hovel!’
‘If you’ve got money to waste then you can give me better food!’ he yelled.
‘I haven’t got money to waste. It will take me two weeks to save up a few pence. Scrimping and saving, doing without anything to eat myself. I deserve to go out. To get away from you once a week!’
‘And what do I deserve? I deserve better than you screaming at me, starving me, leaving me alone all day!’
‘I come home twice in the day to see to you.’
‘It’s your duty. It’s your fault I’m in this chair!’
Phoebe-Ann had had enough. ‘It’s your own bloody fault and I’m sick of listening to you whining. I hate you! I bloody hate you, Jake Malone! You should be grateful for what I do for you. I’ve a good mind to take you around to your ma and leave you there, the way she dumped you on me. And if I want to go out and spend the money I work for, I will! I want some enjoyment and I’m going to have it!’
‘You whore! That’s what you are, a whore! You can’t get anything from me so you’ll go out and find yourself a man – any man! Goin’ out with Alice an’ Ginny!’ He laughed derisively. ‘You bloody liar! I hope you get the pox, you whoring bitch!’ he yelled at her, the veins at his temples throbbing with the force of his anger.
Phoebe-Ann snatched the plate he was holding and threw it with as much force as she could muster against the range, where it shattered into dozens of pieces. ‘There! Now you can starve, Jake Malone! And, what’s more, you can sit in your
own filth all night, I’m going to bed!’
‘You bitch! You bloody little bitch!’ he was almost sobbing with rage. ‘I’ll make you pay for all this! One day I’ll make you pay!’
She sat down on the edge of the bed and undid the parcel with hands that shook. She could kill him, she could. She’d let him stew for the night. Usually she washed him and changed him and got him on to the low camp bed beside her bed, but tonight he could sit there all night. That would teach him to be so evil-minded. How dare he say such things to her when she’d given up everything for him?
As she hung up Emily’s clothes, the tears spilled down her cheeks. What had she become? She’d sunk as low as him. Swearing and screaming, like his ma. No, she’d never sink as low as Ma Malone, never. She had to try to maintain some dignity, some self-respect, but it was so hard being tied to a man like him. Tied and trapped for the rest of her life. She leaned her head against the wardrobe door. She was twenty-one years old and her life was over. What would Mam have said, what would Lily have advised her to do? Make the best of it and not sink to his level, that’s what Mam would have said. But there wasn’t anything to make the best of.
She thought of Rhys and a fresh wave of sobbing overtook her. She should have married him, he would have been good to her, he still loved her. He’d told her that before he’d gone away. If only she could leave Liverpool, leave Jake and run away to Rhys. It was impossible and that made it all the more bitter a pill to swallow. She was still married and both Rhys and his mother were strongly religious people.
She wiped her eyes and drew the curtains and began to get undressed. In future, she’d ignore all his taunts, all his complaints, all his swearing. She’d be silent and dignified and each Sunday she’d get herself dressed up and have a few hours of freedom. Perhaps that, in a small way, would help to compensate for being trapped in this sham of a marriage. But tonight he could sit in the kitchen, that would teach him to call her a whore.
Chapter Twenty-two
JAKE BECAME INCREASINGLY BITTER and harder to live with as the months passed, but Phoebe-Ann argued and fought tenaciously to keep those few, precious hours on a Sunday evening. She swore to Alice and Emily that without them she would go completely mad. But, as the weeks turned into months, those few precious hours of freedom only served to increase her resentment. She envied both Alice and Ginny: their jobs, their money, the time they had to themselves, unburdened and carefree, and the fact that they were always more smartly dressed than she was. Emily was generous with her clothes and had made her two dresses and a skirt but the resentment built up week by week and there were nights when she lay staring at the ceiling wishing she could just leave Liverpool, go anywhere as long as she was far away from Jake Malone and Liffy Street.
Emily felt sorry for her but her constant complaints were beginning to irritate.
‘There isn’t much more I can do for her,’ she said to Edwin.
‘She shouldn’t expect you to. You’ve already done more than most sisters would do. And, when it comes down to it, Em, if it hadn’t been for her we would have been married long ago. It started years ago. I know she meant no harm, that she was just trying to help James Mercer, but just lately I seem to keep having the same thoughts. She’s always been a burden to you, Em, and she probably always will be.’
As Emily had had a particularly trying day, she silently agreed with him instead of defending Phoebe-Ann as she usually did.
Phoebe-Ann had had a trying day, too. She’d got up with a headache, Miss Millicent had been awkward over the household accounts which had reduced Miss Nesta to tears, and Cook was snappy because her rheumatism was causing her a lot of pain. When she’d gone home to give Jake his lunch, he’d cursed and sworn at her from the minute she’d set foot in the door. It was only Monday and she had six whole days and nights before she could escape for a few hours and pretend she was single and free. She’d made him a cup of tea, some paste sandwiches and had slammed out again. When she’d finished work she’d walked home with a heavy heart. The day or the work wasn’t over for her. Miss Millicent and Miss Nesta would sit down to an appetizing supper, set on a table covered with a crisp white damask cloth and laid with fine china. Then they’d sit in their comfortable, warm, clean drawing room and read or embroider, cocooned in peaceful silence, away from the harsh, noisy, dirty and distressing reality of life. If she’d been able to live-in, she would have shared that tranquillity and luxury but for her it was back to those depressing rooms, drudgery and him.
As she walked down the street she saw Mrs Elston from next door, standing on her doorstep, arms folded over her ample bosom. Phoebe-Ann gritted her teeth. She’d have to pass the Elston house so there was no way of avoiding the woman. ‘Cold and damp again, Mrs Elston,’ she said tiredly.
Mrs Elston jerked her head in the direction of Phoebe-Ann’s house. ‘Comes ter somethin’ when I’ve got to stand on me doorstep in this weather to get a bit of peace an’ quiet.’
‘What do you mean? What’s been going on?’ Sometimes when Jake yelled at her, Mrs Elston would hammer on the adjoining wall with the brush, so she assumed he’d been making a lot of noise. Probably cursing and swearing to himself.
‘Sounds like there’s hundreds of them in there, havin’ a do, instead of just five.’
‘Who’s in there with him?’ Phoebe-Ann felt the stirrings of annoyance followed by trepidation.
‘The whole tribe of them. His flamin’ brothers, that’s who!’
Phoebe-Ann’s eyes narrowed. Ever since the day she’d pushed him up Florist Street, none of the Malones had ever come to see him. ‘Oh, they are, are they! Well, they can just clear off. They’ve never been near since she threw him out, so they needn’t think they can start now! I’ve got enough to put up with with him!’
Mrs Elston settled herself more comfortably against the doorpost. This looked very promising indeed. She’d wait until Phoebe-Ann Malone had gone in, then she’d give Madge Hamilton a knock. Aye, it promised to be a real good slanging match. First bit of excitement in the street for months.
By the time Phoebe-Ann stalked into her living room her cheeks were flushed and her eyes glittered dangerously. She glared around at them all. They seemed to dominate the room and Jake was sitting in the middle, looking as though he’d backed the winner in the Grand National.
‘Just what the hell are you all doing here?’ she snapped.
‘I told yer she’d ’ave a cob on, didn’t I?’ Franny said, trying to hide the bottle he was holding.
‘Can’t we come and see our brother now, seeing as it’s his birthday an’ you never bring him round to see us?’ Seamus remarked sarcastically.
She’d forgotten it was his birthday. ‘If you want to see him, and it’s taken you all long enough to remember that you’ve got a brother, then one of you can push him back to Mona Street. Maybe his loving mother would like to see him as well, as it’s his birthday.’
‘Don’t you start on me ma. She’s gettin’ on now an’ he’s your responsibility,’ Peader answered.
Phoebe-Ann laughed cuttingly. ‘Getting on! It doesn’t stop her from getting herself down to the Grecian every night, does it? Nor did it stop her getting thrown out last week. Drunk and disorderly, so I heard!’
‘What me ma does is her business,’ Jake muttered. ‘You never remembered me birthday.’
Phoebe-Ann laughed again. ‘And she did? So, where’s the card and the present then? Or have you already drunk it?’
‘She always was a bloody misery; didn’t even get a bevvy in when they got engaged,’ Vinny muttered.
‘You keep your mouth shut in my house, Vinny Malone!’ She could see that she was going to have trouble getting rid of them and for a moment she was afraid, remembering that she had neither Jimmy nor Jack to support her now. She glared at them all and then, turning, she went into the bedroom and slammed the door.
As she took off her uniform and put on her old, faded dress and equally faded pinafore, she could hear them m
uttering, punctuated by bursts of coarse laughter. How she hated them all and how dare they think they could invade her home whenever they felt like it, birthday or no birthday. But how could she stop them? And they’d all been drinking. Wasn’t Jake hard enough to cope with without a drink inside him? Nor was he used to it now. There was no money for drink.
She wondered should she stay in the bedroom until they’d gone, but then anger flared. Why the hell should she? It was her home, she worked to pay the rent, to keep food on the table and a fire in the range. She went without even what in the past she would have considered the bare necessities to keep a roof over their heads. She was cold, hungry and thirsty. No, she wasn’t going to stay skulking in the bedroom waiting for them to leave. If needs be she’d have to use desperate measures to get them out. She marched purposefully back into the other room.
‘Right. You’ve seen him, you’ve all had a good moan about me, so now you can clear off home or to the alehouse, I don’t care which. I’ve been working all day to keep him and I’ve got things to do.’
‘We’ll go when we’re ready,’ Seamus stated ominously.
‘Aye, they’ll go when I say so,’ Jake added, emboldened by their presence. They’d put her in her place.
Phoebe-Ann stared malevolently at Jake. Once she wouldn’t have known what to do next but now things were different. She’d put up with so much, suffered so much that all the gentleness in her nature had been buried under the brittle shell that had formed around her heart. ‘I’m going to give you one last chance to tell them to go, Jake Malone.’
‘Sod off!’
‘Right, you asked for it! Don’t say I didn’t warn you. Tell them to get out and not come back – ever!’ She folded her arms and waited for the answer she knew wouldn’t come.
‘They can come here any time they want to! You leave me all bloody day with nothing to do but stare at the effin’ walls and talk to meself!’
She didn’t reply. Instead she grabbed the chipped enamel basin and began to fill it from the sink in the corner of the room. From the shelf that was fixed above the sink she took a large bar of carbolic soap and a pile of clean rags.
