When the next remittance failed to arrive he was convinced that Sam must be in trouble and his first outing was to the bank. He asked the manager for advice on the best way to send the savings to Sam.
‘I don’t want to send it in a way that’ll see it gobbled up, with no benefit to Sam and Mary,’ he explained.
‘Of course you must do what is best for your daughter and her husband,’ the bank manager agreed. ‘Matters are rather complicated at present but I’ll consider the options and inform you of them.’
Lawrie was too worried and too anxious to put Sam’s mind at rest about money to wait for the bank manager’s advice, and while Sally was out he wrote to his son-in-law.
Sally and me do very well with only the two of us to keep and a lodger into the bargain. I didn’t want to hurt your feelings, lad, by sending the money back because we didn’t need it so I put it in the bank, thinking it might come in useful for fares or something you’d need. By what I see in the paper this might be the time to send it to you, but thanks for thinking of us and I hope you won’t think that me and Sally aren’t grateful.
I asked the bank manager and he said he’ll think of some way to send it so no one else gets their hands on it. The amount is 1,426 dollars. Keep your pecker up, lad. Love to Mary.
Yours faithfully, Lawrence Ward
Sam’s reply came promptly. He wrote that he had been very touched by Lawrie’s letter and was sorry that he had been worried.
It has been a bad time here and everything is very disorganized. I could see that the bubble must burst and I planned accordingly, but many of our friends have not been so lucky. I was not over-extended so I was able to salvage enough for a fresh start. It has upset Mary to have so many friends scattered and houses sold, and she would like to make a start somewhere else. She fancies California because of the sunshine and I can see openings in supplying the film business so will give it a try. Rest assured, Mr Ward, that I will never let Mary experience hardship.
I hope you were not offended by my sending the money. It was the only way I could show my gratitude to you. I hope you will keep it in England and use it there as it might complicate things for me if it came here, although I appreciate your kind offer.
I can never be thankful enough not only to have Mary as my wife but also to have you and Mrs Ward as parents and Cathy as a sister.
Yours very affectionately,
Sam
Now that he knew that Mary and Sam were not in trouble, Lawrie showed Sam’s letter to Sally who shed a few tears.
‘I hope our Mary’s been a comfort to him while he’s had these troubles, poor lad,’ she said. ‘And I hope she realizes how lucky she is to have a husband like Sam to look after her. He’d pull the moon out of the sky for her.’
‘I’m sure she does,’ Lawrie said. ‘She saw enough of the other kind to make her appreciate him.’
Sally dried her eyes. ‘Aye, well, this explains why she hasn’t been writing. It looks as if there’s been a fair old upheaval there, and she wouldn’t write while she couldn’t boast.’
They were interrupted by the sound of Cathy opening the front door, but she paused on the step to speak to Peggy Burns who had come out of the house next door.
Sally looked down the lobby. ‘There’s another one who’s got a good husband,’ she said, ‘Greg’s one in a thousand, but at least our Cathy values him. Both our girls have been lucky.’
‘And we’ve been lucky too, girl,’ Lawrie said. ‘Two lovely daughters, and sons-in-law like Greg and Sam.’
They could hear Cathy’s voice rising excitedly, and then they heard her say, ‘Oh, come in and tell Mam, Mrs Burns,’ and the next moment the two women came into the kitchen.
Cathy’s cheeks were pink with excitement. ‘Mam, Dad,’ she exclaimed, ‘Peggy’s heard about a house here in the street!’
‘An exchange,’ Peggy said. ‘Miss Andrews’ house over the road.’
‘Miss Andrews,’ Sally echoed, ‘but—’
‘I only heard this morning,’ Peggy said. ‘I got talking to her and she said her house was too big for her and her brother. I said why didn’t she exchange into a smaller one, and told her Cathy was looking for a family house.’
‘Oh, Mam, wouldn’t it be lovely?’ Cathy said.
‘What are we all standing up for?’ Lawrie interrupted. ‘Sit down and tell us, Peg. Do you think she’s serious?’
‘You know her, Lawrie, she’s not one for jokes.’
‘I’ve seen her in the street,’ he said, ‘but I wouldn’t say I know her. Tall, thin woman, very reserved?’
‘Yes, with a patch of red on her cheeks. That shows she’s got a bad heart. That’s why she wants to move, I think,’ Peggy said. ‘The house is too much for her.’
‘What should I do? Should I go and see her?’ Cathy asked, but her mother advised caution.
‘Don’t rush the woman,’ she said. ‘Let Peggy have another talk to her.’
Cathy waited impatiently for Greg to return home, and as soon as he stepped inside the door she poured out her news. ‘It wouldn’t be much difference in rent either,’ she said. ‘This place is seven and threepence a week, and Mr Jones never puts his rent up so Egremont Street is only nine and sixpence. We could easily afford that, Greg.’
Her eyes were bright with excitement and she seemed unable to keep still. Greg felt compelled to warn her not to build her hopes too much.
‘Miss Andrews may not want to live here, or one or other of the landlords might object,’ he said.
‘But you’d like it, wouldn’t you?’ Cathy said eagerly.
‘Of course I would. I’ve always liked Egremont Street. They’re good sound houses and it’s a much wider road than this.’
‘Three good bedrooms, and a parlour, and all the rooms are bigger than these!’
‘Which house is it?’
‘Number twenty-three. Across the road from Mam’s and a bit further up. Next to where the Bennets used to live. You must have seen Miss Andrews. “The Grenadier”, we used to call her. She was so tall and thin, and her brother was little and fat. Oh, Greg, if only we could!’
He was walking about in excitement although he tried to appear clam. ‘It would be splendid for the children. Even the youngsters there are different. Properly brought up.’
‘Mam said we mightn’t like being so close to them,’ Cathy said.
‘Oh, no. That might be the case with some people but not with your parents, Cathy,’ he exclaimed.
“Like your mother,” trembled on Cathy’s tongue but she bit back the words. That bitter old woman was long dead and now her malice should be forgotten.
It all seemed an impossible dream but suddenly all their problems seemed to be solved. Miss Andrews visited the house in Norris Street and declared that it would be perfect for her and her brother. The front door opened into the living kitchen but Greg had put up bookshelves at an angle to the door which screened the room from the street.
He had also made bookshelves for John’s books and added a lean to shed in the backyard which gave extra storage space. The little house was spotlessly clean and perfumed by flowers from the allotment, and Miss Andrews announced that she and her brother would be very comfortable there.
Cathy felt compelled to warn Miss Andrews about the inquisitive neighbours, but the spinster gazed at her in mild surprise.
‘I shall keep them at a distance, dear,’ she said firmly. ‘My dear mother always advised against familiarity, and Herbert will know how to deal with any impertinence.’
Cathy hid a smile. The Andrews family had certainly followed that policy in Egremont Street, she thought, but she wondered what the effect of their reserve would be on the people of Norris Street, particularly Mrs Parker.
They had finished their tour of the tiny house and Miss Andrews declined Cathy’s offer of tea.
‘I am perfectly satisfied with this house, Mrs Redmond,’ she said, ‘but you must inspect my house.’ Cathy assured her that it would not
be necessary as she knew the layout of the houses in Egremont Street but Miss Andrews said with dignity, ‘Nevertheless, I should prefer you to do so.’
It was arranged that Cathy would call later that day and if she was satisfied they would go to see both landlords and get the matter settled.
Later Cathy went to her mother’s house before going to number twenty-three, and told her of Miss Andrews’ visit. ‘I asked her if she needed to consult her brother but she just said, “That will not be necessary.” It’s funny, Mam. He’s such a peppery little man, and she’s so stiff and quiet.’
‘I think she rules the roost there all right,’ Sally said. ‘I’d like to see those nosy neighbours of yours trying anything with her.’
‘So would I,’ Cathy laughed. ‘It didn’t take her long to decide that Herbert would have the back bedroom. You know, when I was little I thought they were married and I used to think how funny they must have looked at the altar, with Miss Andrews so tall and thin and her brother little and fat.’
‘There was a big family there when we came to this house,’ Sally said. ‘But they were always very superior and kept themselves to themselves. I think they were interested in amateur theatricals, and they used to go to the theatre and the choir together.’ She sighed. ‘There used to be lots of families like that before the war, but not any more.’
‘Weren’t some of the sons killed?’
‘Three joined up right away and two were killed early in the war, on the Somme, I think. One was killed in the last week, I remember now. Some of them married and the house seemed to empty out suddenly. The mother died a few years ago but she’d been bedridden for years.’
Cathy went to see Miss Andrews and was solemnly conducted round the house. It was totally different to her mother’s although the rooms were the same size. The parlour was in semi-darkness, with an aspidistra on a bamboo plant stand and heavy chenille curtains and Nottingham lace shrouding the window. There was a rosewood piano with candle sconces and a massive picture above it of a St Bernard dog rescuing a small boy from a pond.
The rest of the room was filled with a round mahogany table and massive dining chairs, and a sideboard with a curved marble top and a heavy ornate mirror above it. Every inch of wood was elaborately carved and Cathy was just thinking how hideous it all was when Miss Andrews remarked, ‘Most of the furniture will be too large but we must take the sideboard and that dear picture. It was Mother’s favourite.’
They went into the kitchen, the heart of the house in Sally’s house but here as dark and overcrowded as the parlour. The bedrooms were the same but although tidy they smelt fusty and airless. Dust lay thickly in the folds of the heavy curtains.
Cathy was not deterred. She was sure that with the dark hangings and heavy furniture removed, she would soon make a clean and comfortable home for her family here.
They went next to see the landlords who both agreed to the exchange which was arranged for the end of the month.
Excitement had carried Cathy forward as though on the crest of a wave, but that night in bed she was suddenly filled with panic. How on earth would they pay for the move, and for furniture for the new home? Since her debt had been paid, she had enjoyed having the extra money to spend but somehow now it was only just enough to last the week and she was never able to save from it.
She tossed and turned, unable to sleep, and looked pale and tired when she went to her mother’s house the next day.
‘You don’t look well, love,’ Sally said. ‘Didn’t you sleep.’
‘I’m just excited,’ Cathy said. She had not intended to tell her mother that she was worried but suddenly found herself blurting out her fears over the move.
‘I don’t know what you’re worried about,’ Sally said calmly. ‘Peggy knows someone who’d move you for five shillings, and your dad and I have already decided that we’ll pay that and for any new oilcloth you need for the floors.’
‘I can’t let you do that, Mam,’ Cathy protested.
‘Don’t argue,’ Sally said. She stood up and took down the handleless teapot that stood on the mantelpiece. She took three pound notes folded together from it. ‘I drew my Co-op divi and it was good this time. Josh got his new suit and shoes and he gave my number because he’s not in the Co-op himself, so I did well.’
‘I’m sorry I said anything,’ Cathy exclaimed. ‘I wasn’t trying to scrounge.’
‘I’m going to get annoyed in a minute,’ her mother exclaimed. ‘If your own mam and dad can’t help you out, who can?’
Cathy looked down. ‘I feel ashamed,’ she said in a low voice. ‘I should have been able to save out of the big jump in Greg’s wages, but honestly, Mam, it just goes.’
‘I’m not surprised,’ Sally said, ‘with six mouths to feed and four growing children to clothe. I don’t know how on earth you managed before, but don’t worry yourself any more about this move. Me and your dad can’t wait to have you all just across the road.’
She seemed to assume that the question of the money had been settled and Cathy could only accept with thankfulness. During the following weeks she gradually packed up what she could and scoured every corner of the house so that it would be clean and fresh for the new tenants.
A niece had appeared to help Miss Andrews sort out what she could take and what must be sold. Cathy went to the house again and arranged that she would buy the Nottingham lace curtains which were too large for Norris Street windows, and some other small items.
‘We won’t be able to furnish the parlour yet,’ she said to Greg, ‘but if the lace curtains are up it’ll look all right from outside.’
‘The main thing is having the house,’ he said. ‘We can take our time and furnish it gradually.’
‘Oh, Greg, it’s all like a dream come true, isn’t it?’ she said, putting her arms round him and leaning her head on his chest.
He kissed her gently. ‘Our lucky star’s shining now all right, Cath,’ he said.
The day of the move was bright and pleasant and all went smoothly. The family were up early. Sarah helped Cathy to strip the beds and pack the bedding and the last few pots and pans into a tea chest, while Greg and John dismantled the beds ready for the removal men.
Kate had stayed with her grandmother, and the rest of the family went off to school or work. When the removal van arrived Mrs Parker was sitting outside her house opposite, surrounded by relatives, all shamelessly scrutinizing every item as it was carried out. Cathy swept out each room as it was cleared and then took out the brush and shovel to the van. As it drove away the rent collecter came down the street. He raised his bowler hat and shook hands with Cathy.
‘I know your rent has been paid at the office, Mrs Redmond,’ he said, ‘but I wanted to say how sorry I am to lose such a good tenant, and to wish you every happiness in your new home.’
Aware of the watchers across the road, Cathy blushed but said warmly, ‘Thank you, Mr Carnegie. I’m sure Miss Andrews will be a good tenant and her brother is a bookworm, you know.’
‘I’m glad to hear it, but I’ll miss you. Thank you for all your kindness.’ He raised his hat again and moved away. Cathy went back into the house and through to the back kitchen away from the prying eyes, her own filling with tears.
In her early days in Norris Street she had invited the rent collecter into the house on a bitterly cold day and had offered him a hot drink which he had gratefully accepted. Cathy had been amazed and hurt by the sly comments of her neighbours about her innocent action, but she was too proud to be intimidated by them and had since often repeated her action.
The old man had become a friend and had often borrowed books from the bookcase behind the door. Most of them were from second-hand shops and a few were school books of Greg’s but Mr Carnegie always made brown paper covers for anything he borrowed and brought the books back promptly.
The house next door was still empty. Billy Woods was still in jail and Grace was making little progress back to health. Cathy had been again to the
hospital but had found her weak and dispirited.
‘They think me rib damaged me lungs,’ she told Cathy. ‘I was going to go to the Tired Mothers Home for a holiday but now I might get sent to Fazakerley instead.’ She showed little interest in her children, except to say that her cousins were not able to keep them any longer.
The eldest boy had taken lodgings near the foundry where he worked and one of the girls was in service. George, who was now fourteen, had obtained a living in job as a boot boy in a hotel, and of the five remaining children, three had been sent to an orphanage in Seaforth, and the two youngest who suffered from rickets had been sent by Miss Beavan to the Open Air Hospital for Children in Leasowe.
Cathy went into the backyard for the last time and glanced up at the windows next door, feeling sad for Grace. But nothing could depress her for long on this day. She went in and toured the house to make sure all was in order, and put a penny in the gas meter. She had already put a large lump of coal on the fire, and satisfied that she had done all she could to leave the house warm and welcoming for Miss Andrews, she stepped out and shut the door behind her.
‘Ta ra then,’ one of the woman standing near Mrs Parker called. ‘We’ll have to watch our step with the new woman, won’t we? She looks as if she could flatten us with one blow.’
The women sniggered and another one called, ‘The rent man’ll miss his comforts, won’t he? His cups’a tea.’
Several retorts rose to Cathy’s lips but she suppressed them and simply said goodbye, walking away with her head held high. Three of her children had been born in the little house but any pang she might have felt at leaving it was speedily cured by the malicious comments. She walked away with no regrets, only an added thankfulness that she would be living in Egremont Street, among friends.
Chapter Ten
Sarah thought that the day that they moved in to Egremont Street was the happiest of her life. To have a house like Grandma’s with two steps up to the front door and a railing between their house and the one next door, a bedroom just for herself and Kate, and best of all Grandma and Grandad just across the road, was heaven.
There is a Season Page 12
