The Doorstep Child

by Annie Murray

  ‘Look, love, I’m a friend of your mother’s and she’s staying with us tonight. How about you come and see your mom tonight – you and Tracy? Just come and see where she’s living. You can spend a bit of time together. We’ve got a nice garden, and—’

  ‘That’s right – bribe ’im!’ Irene put in.

  ‘No!’ Andrew broke into screams. ‘Don’t want to! I don’t want to come with you!’ He began to throw himself about, distraught, lashing out at Evie. He landed a punch in her stomach and she doubled over, hurt, but much more by the force of the rejection than the blow itself. ‘No!’ he kept yelling. ‘No! No! No!’

  Evie straightened up, desperate. She seized hold of him, taking him tightly in her arms.

  ‘Andrew. Andrew!’ She found herself shouting as he flailed and wriggled against her. ‘Listen. Just listen to me, son. I’ve done you wrong, I know.’ She was having to shout but she didn’t care now who heard. ‘I left you and I shouldn’t have done. It’s my fault – your mom’s been poorly, see? I’ve been in the hospital. But I’m back now – and I want you. I want you more than anything in the world, and I’ll never go away again. I won’t. I promise.’ He went limp at last. Not giving in fully, but still at least.

  Carefully, Evie went on, close to his ear: ‘Andrew. I know I’ve been away a long time. And it’s all wrong. But let’s try and start from now, my love. Just come and see – for the night, eh?’

  ‘We ought to call the social, Mom,’ Rita said officiously. ‘Evie’s a mental case. She ain’t no good as a mother. They ought to know.’

  ‘What a good idea,’ Dolly said, staring at Irene. ‘Shall we get a social worker to come in and talk about the whole situation – the background to it all? What a marvellous mother you’ve been, the way you treated your child? They take a proper case history, you know.’

  Evie saw her mother’s face crease into a snarl. If there was one thing on earth Irene loathed, it was any thought of interference by ‘them’ – the social, the bossy do-gooders.

  ‘Just take the little bleeders,’ she said, flouncing away into the front room. ‘I never wanted yow ’ere! Who said yow could just come and dump yower brats on me anyhow? Yow can go and get out of my sight – the whole lot of yow – and don’t cowing well come back!’

  VII

  Sixty-Two

  April 1973

  The train rushed across the countryside, weak sunshine brightening and fading as the wind hurried a procession of clouds across the sun.

  Evie sat beside Andrew, whose nose was pressed to the window. It had been a long time since she had seen him so excited at the idea of a day out, of going on a train. Tracy, opposite them, also by the window, gazed out dreamily. Evie looked at her with bottomless fondness and gratitude. She didn’t know what she had done to deserve a daughter like Tracy, but whatever it was, she was thankful to her very bones.

  Opposite her sat Carl, hunched up in his parka, who smiled when Andrew kept turning and exclaiming loudly, ‘Look, a bridge!’ ‘Look, a tractor!’ Carl was nearly as excited as he was.

  Even if the reason they had come today was such a poignant one, Evie still felt bubbles of excitement and happiness inside. On the luggage rack sat their sad little burden in a box. They would do what they had to do. But she wasn’t going to lay this heavily on her children. They had had quite enough. This was a day out – they were going to the seaside. She longed to see colour in her children’s cheeks.

  ‘Want a butty?’ Carl asked, delving in his bag and looking round at them.

  ‘No ta, Carl,’ Evie said, laughing. ‘It’s not even elevenses time yet.’

  Carl looked surprised. ‘I’m starving, I am.’

  ‘You’re always eating,’ Andrew said, glancing round. ‘You’re a great big piggy-wig.’

  Carl grinned, chomping into a ham sandwich. ‘Piggy-wig,’ he echoed, seeming pleased by this title. ‘Want one, Trace?’

  Tracy turned and smiled dreamily at him. ‘No thanks.’

  Carl beamed back at them both. He adored Tracy and Andrew and the feeling was entirely mutual.

  ‘We’re gunna ’ave a nice time!’ he announced, indistinctly. ‘By the sea!’

  The elderly couple in the seats close to them glanced at him and smiled.

  Evie looked out at the hurrying green of the spring countryside with a sense of amazement. Six months ago . . . Just six months ago she was still in the hospital, still crawling along in the very dregs of her life . . .

  The night they brought Tracy and Andrew back to Moseley in Mo’s car, Andrew sat stiffly beside her, still an angry, tough, lost little man. He looked out into the darkness without a word. In the flash of light from other cars, Evie could see his clenched jaw. The sight of him filled her with grief and remorse.

  Tracy, the other side of her, beside Melly, was quiet, strained looking. She had given a wan smile when Melly said a proper hello to her and told her that she had known Tracy’s mom since they were young. It was all too much to take in. Then she sat back quietly, gripping Evie’s hand throughout the journey.

  It felt very late, as if they had been out for hours and hours. Evie was amazed to find that it was only eight o’clock when they got back to Moseley. Evie was completely in Dolly and Mo’s hands. And what kind hands they were. She had nowhere to go, but they had already made it clear that she would be staying with them that night.

  ‘Course you can stay,’ Dolly said. ‘Melly and Reggie live on the top floor, but this house still has more rooms than we need.’

  The evening was a blur in her memory. Dolly made them all cocoa. Evie and the children were silent, overwhelmed by the strangeness of it all. But Dolly’s kindness radiated over them as ever. She took Evie aside.

  ‘Look, bab, Melly’ll help you make up the bed upstairs. I’d say what you need is to sleep with them – keep ’em close. They’re like little babbies after all that’s happened – losing you and everything. And they need holding, like babbies. Least,’ she finished, ‘if they were mine, that’s what I’d do. They need to know you’re solid for ’em.’

  Evie looked gratefully at her. She knew Dolly, who looked after everyone, was now setting out to mother her and if there was one thing she needed, it was a decent mother. And she sensed that Dolly was right. Whether she felt solid at all was another matter. She had to be – had to. From now on, whatever happened, she had to be the most solid mother there ever was. It was a daunting thought.

  Andrew was still silent and mutinous as she put him to bed. They had brought nothing with them, but Melly found the two of them some clothes they could wear in bed, and Evie as well.

  ‘You’re so kind,’ Evie said to her tearfully, as all this was done for them.

  ‘Oh, it’s all right,’ Melly said cheerfully. ‘We’re glad to help. Mom’ll be ever so pleased to hear you’re here, you know. We used to wonder sometimes where you were and how you were getting on.’ She squeezed Evie’s arm, looking into her eyes, and Evie could see a hint of her mother, Rachel, in her face. ‘That doctor’s right, you know. Your mother’s no good for you. I know it sounds hard, but she never was, was she?’ Her face was full of sympathy. ‘Your poor kids.’ Evie was warmed by what a nice person she was. ‘Anyway . . . look, you get into bed with them. We can talk more tomorrow.’

  She slipped into the double bed with its lovely fresh sheets and thick blankets. The room smelled slightly of polish and lavender. Tracy and Andrew were both already in bed, and she felt nervous as they watched her silently.

  ‘Shall I get in between you both?’ she asked, afraid of them rejecting her.

  Tracy sat up and moved her legs to let her mother move into the middle. After a minute, all lying down, Tracy said, ‘Oh Mom!’ and flung herself towards her, wrapping her arms round her, and burst into tears. Evie stroked her skinny back which was heaving with sobs. With her other hand she reached for her little boy.

  ‘Andrew?’ she said softly.

  Silently he turned to her and with a force that came clo
se to snapping her heart in two, grasped hold of her round the waist with desperate strength, clinging on. She cuddled him to her.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she wept with them both. ‘I’m so, so sorry kids. I was poorly and they had to take me to the hospital to make me better. I couldn’t help it – I never meant to just leave you. I just wasn’t up to doing anything. But I’m here now . . .’

  ‘Are you better?’ Tracy asked. Evie could hear all the tension of uncertainty in her voice.

  ‘Yes. Yes, babby,’ she said, hoping to goodness. ‘I’m here and I’m going to be here always. I promise.’

  When she woke the next morning, Andrew was still clinging to her arm, his head pressed against her ribs.

  For the rest of her life, Evie would feel grateful to the Morrison family for all they did for her during those weeks. They all talked and talked things over with her. For the first time ever in her life, Evie felt she had people round her who cared about her, who could help her think things through.

  With their help, she started to make some firm decisions. Andrew kept going on about Wayne to begin with, and it seemed to Evie so hard – wrong – to deny him his cousins, especially as she felt all this was her fault.

  ‘Evie,’ Melly said to her several times. ‘I know it’s tough, but what’ll happen if you go back there? Andrew’s too young to go by himself and you’ve got to keep away from her for your own sake.’

  Above all, Evie was grateful that the Morrisons knew her mother of old. She recognized, really, that they were right.

  ‘It seems unnatural,’ she said to Dolly once when they were discussing it.

  ‘It may do,’ Dolly retorted, ‘but she’s not natural herself, that one. I’m sorry to say it, Evie, but regardless of what made her the way she is, she’s no good for you. Sometimes to make a tree grow you have to cut off some of the branches.’

  Evie stared at her. ‘I’ve never thought about it like that before.’

  By Christmas, also with their help, she had found a new job in the offices of a brass foundry in Balsall Heath. She found a little terrace to rent in Kings Heath and a lodger to share it with. Melly insisted on being with her when a couple of prospective lodgers came to see her.

  ‘Don’t you trust me?’ she asked Melly, gratefully.

  ‘Let’s just say another set of ears and eyes is always a good thing,’ Melly said.

  Of the two women who came, one was very young, evasive in her answers and, they had the impression, in some sort of trouble. The other, June, was a plump, reassuring person in her late thirties who worked at WHSmith in Kings Heath. She was single and the couple she had been renting from before had just had a baby and wanted the room.

  ‘What d’you think?’ Evie said, truly wondering whether she could put any faith in her feeling that June seemed a very nice, trustworthy woman. Was she capable of judging anything? she wondered.

  ‘Perfect,’ Melly said. ‘She’s very nice.’

  This was the reassurance she needed. June even offered to drop Tracy and Andrew off at school on her walk to work. One blessing seemed to fall after another. She didn’t like the fact that they had to walk back on their own each afternoon – latchkey kids, she thought. But it was only round the corner and Tracy assured her that they had been doing it for months already as Shirley had given up collecting them.

  ‘She’s quite a girl you’ve got there,’ Melly said. ‘So strong. It must be because she has a strong mother.’ This brought Evie to tears. She felt anything but strong, but it was wonderful that Melly thought this of her.

  ‘You need to make your own life,’ Melly said, when they moved in. She gave Evie a hug. ‘But we’re always here, you know that, don’t you?’

  ‘I do,’ Evie said. She was starting to believe it too, day by day. Believe that things could settle.

  She found time eventually to go back and apologize to Mr and Mrs Grant, who, once hearing what had happened, were forgiving and asked after the children, saying they had missed them all.

  ‘We’ve got your things. Oh, and there are letters for you, Evie,’ Mrs Grant said, handing her a couple of envelopes. From the official look of one, Evie realized this was something to do with her divorce. She felt it as a blow for a second, but the feeling passed. She and Jack had to cut each other off – it was the only way. She thanked the Grants and promised to bring the children over to see them – while steering well away from Alwold Road.

  If her own survival lay in the loss of her mother and sisters . . . well, so be it. She could see that she must cut off some branches to allow herself to grow in freedom, gathering around her the people who cared about her.

  While she was packing up to move to Kings Heath, Evie found the bus ticket on which Alan Dickson had written his address and number.

  ‘What’s that?’ Melly asked, seeing her hesitating over it.

  ‘It’s just someone I used to work with – sort of. Gave me his number.’

  ‘Not that man I met when I came to the hospital?’ Melly held out her hand and looked at the number. ‘He was trying to visit you as well.’ Melly sat on the edge of the bed and eyed her. ‘He seemed nice,’ she said carefully.

  ‘He is . . . I think,’ Evie said.

  Melly smiled. ‘Look, you’ve got enough on your plate . . .’

  ‘What, without another bloke as well, you mean?’ Evie smiled.

  ‘Yes . . . well . . . I suppose what I mean is . . .’ She stopped and thought for a second, choosing her words. ‘You’ve had a lot to cope with. Maybe you just need to be on your own for a bit. Not just rush from one man to another. But . . .’ Their eyes met. ‘He’s ever so nice, Evie. He really seemed to care about you.’ She passed the ticket back with the number on. ‘Just don’t throw it away, eh?’

  ‘Oh, I won’t be rushing into anything,’ Evie said. ‘My kids come first. But . . .’ She had a warm feeling suddenly, warm and confident. She remembered Alan’s kindly ways, his eyes smiling down at her. She knew she liked Alan and could trust him. He had already shown her that. And given time, maybe there could be more. ‘I could just meet him for a drink – say thank you?’

  Melly’s lovely face smiled up at her. ‘Well, I can’t see how that could do any harm, can you?’

  The children tore up and down the long sandy beach at Weston, shrieking in the wind. Sunshine came and went and the wind buffeted them all, but it did not actually rain. The tide was coming in and when the sun came out, the waves glittered with light. All of them soon had pink cheeks and were screaming with delight.

  Walking from the station, Evie had bought a bucket and plastic spades for Tracy and Andrew and she and Carl watched the other sandcastle diggers along the beach to see how you did it. They started on a huge excavation, drawing a circle and digging out sand all the way round it to make a moat. Carl was as enthusiastic as they were.

  Evie watched him with a lump in her throat. Even while trying get her own life in place, she had been worrying about him. She went over to Paul’s house. He, skinny like most of the Knights and with tiny children peeping out behind his legs, just said, ‘He ain’t ’ere no more.’

  Evie was horrified. She asked if he had gone to any of his other brothers, some of whom had families, but Paul just shrugged, seeming neither to know or care.

  There was only one other place she could look. One Sunday morning, she and the children went over to Selly Oak.

  ‘We’ll have a bit of a walk by the cut, shall we?’ she said. She hoped they wouldn’t find anything terrible, but she couldn’t go in the week and if Carl was back at work he wouldn’t have been there anyway.

  The boat was in exactly the same place.

  ‘Oh look,’ she said as they approached. ‘Look at this boat.’ Though decrepit, Pearl looked beautiful. The mist was taking a long time to clear that morning, the sun trying to burn it off, and the boat’s dark shape was shrouded in a golden haze.

  As they came up close, she eyed it carefully. Someone was in. Smoke was drifting out of the chimney an
d she could see that things had been moved since the last time she saw it.

  ‘I wonder who lives here,’ she said. ‘Shall we see?’

  She jumped down onto the stern by the tiller and rapped on the cabin door. A moment later, Carl poked his head out.

  ‘Evie!’ he beamed. His delight at seeing her and his creased-up, smiling face, reassured the children. Rocket ran out barking in greeting.

  ‘Oh Carly,’ she said. ‘What’re you doing back here all on your own?’

  ‘I’m all right,’ he said, nodding vigorously. ‘I am.’

  ‘But are you?’ she said. ‘Are you coping all right?’

  ‘Yeah,’ he said. ‘Didn’t like Paul’s. I’m all right. She’s my boat – I know what to do.’

  He did, she thought now, watching him shovel up the sand and pile it in the middle of the sandcastle. If you showed Carl things he could do, he just kept doing them. He had been looking after Gary even more than she had realized and he knew how to run his life on the boat.

  ‘I like it here,’ he’d said that day. ‘I’m all right.’

  Her kids had loved the boat and loved Carl and Rocket. She had promised to come down when she could and keep an eye on him. To her shame, she realized that whatever had happened to Gary’s body, it had happened without any of his family being there. She and Carl had been so bothered by all the talk of police and everything else that had happened that no one had been near to give him a send-off. Carl looked blank when she asked if Gary had had a funeral. Apart from Paul, she had no idea where the others were, or whether Old Man Knight was still alive. Still, she thought, they never cared about him when he was here. There was no use in going looking now.

  She found out from the cemetery at Lodge Hill that the council had paid for Gary’s funeral and that his ashes were there for a member of the family to collect if anyone was forthcoming.

  She and Carl went together. She thought Carl would be upset, but he didn’t really seem to make a connection between the brother who had looked out for him and this little urn of his remains. Gently, she explained to him.