by Kitty Neale
Now the Jacksons were going too, and maybe it was for the best. He knew it didn’t help that his mother saw Mavis all the time, and it might make a difference now that she was leaving, but, unlike his mother, Tommy found that he wasn’t pleased. It was daft really, he knew that, but somehow Mavis had got under his skin. He would never forget her anguished face when he destroyed her painting, and perhaps his attraction to her now was tied up with feelings of guilt. Yet somehow he felt there was more to it than that. He fought it, of course. His mother was right. If Mavis had half a brain, she’d find a decent job. With the way she was, there could never be anything between them, yet even so he couldn’t help wondering where Mavis was going. Or if he’d ever see her again.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Mavis had lain awake for hours, stomach rumbling with hunger until sure that her mother had gone to bed, she had sneaked downstairs to grab a couple of slices of bread. Yet still she hadn’t been able to sleep, her mind twisting and turning. She didn’t want to move away. She wanted to stay close by where she could wait for her father to come home. Yet would he? Her mother’s words had played over and over until she couldn’t think straight. Was she telling the truth? Either way, no matter what, she didn’t want to move in with her and Pete.
When she awoke on Tuesday morning Mavis had no memory of falling asleep. Yawning, she got up, but almost immediately her mind returned to her problem. Mrs Pugh had given her a way out, a chance to remain in this area, but she just couldn’t face the thought of marrying Alec. When Mavis went downstairs she ignored her mother as she walked through to the outhouse, but shortly afterwards she heard someone knocking on the door, followed by Pete’s voice. For once her wash was perfunctory, and, ears pricked, Mavis stood just behind the door, listening.
‘You shouldn’t have come round, Pete. There’s enough gossip as it is.’
‘Sod the gossip. What does it matter anyway? I’ve found us a place, Lily, and we can move in on Saturday.’
‘What? How did you find it so quickly? And where is it?’
‘It was a bit of a fluke, word of mouth really, through a bloke on the site. It’s in Peckham Rye, well away from here, and I reckon you’ll love it, Lily.’
‘What’s it like?’
‘There’s two bedrooms and a bit of a garden, but best of all it’s got a bathroom. No more going to an outside lavvy for you, Lily.’
‘A bathroom. Oh…oh, Pete.’
‘I’ve got to go, Lily. I’ll be late for work but I had to pop round to tell you. Start packing, girl, and don’t worry about furniture. It comes fully furnished and it’s decent stuff too.’
‘Pete, come round again this evening and you can tell me more about it.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘Yes, it’s as you said. Sod the neighbours.’
‘What about Mavis? Have you told her about us and that we’re moving?’
‘Yeah, I told her.’
‘How did she take it?’
‘Not very well, but don’t worry, she’ll come round. After all, she ain’t got any choice. Now come on, give me a cuddle and then bugger off. I’ve got a lot to do before Saturday and loads of stuff to get rid of.’
There was a pause, one in which Mavis could picture her mother in Pete’s arms, and then his voice called out, ‘See you later, love,’ followed by the sound of the front door closing.
For a moment Mavis remained where she was. Her mother had told Pete that she’d go with them, that she had no choice. It wasn’t true, there was an alternative, one her mother knew nothing about, but could she take it?
‘I suppose you heard all that, Mavis?’ her mother said as she walked into the outhouse.
Lips tight, Mavis nodded.
‘Yeah, well, this means you’ll have to tell Mrs Pugh that Friday will be your last day. I’ll give you notes to leave for the jobs in Chelsea. I know it’s short notice, but they should still pay you for the hours you put in until then.’
Mavis didn’t care about the jobs in Chelsea, but found that she dreaded the thought of leaving Mrs Pugh. Not only had her house become a sanctuary, Mrs Pugh was the only person who made her feel of any worth. The thought of never seeing her again, of giving up the reading lessons, her one chance to prove that she wasn’t stupid, was too much. ‘Please, Mum, can’t we stay here?’ she begged.
‘No, and don’t start whinging again. I’ll make you a bit of toast and while you’re eating it I’ll get on with writing those notes.’
‘But…’
‘Mavis, I’m warning you, I’ve just about had enough. Now I don’t want to hear another word about it. We’re going. You’re coming with us. And that’s that!’
Mavis ate the toast that was put in front of her automatically, her thoughts still all over the place. When the notes were ready she put on her coat and then stuffed them into her pocket, saying not a word to her mother as she walked out. She was going to Mrs Pugh’s, was supposed to tell her that she was leaving, but the thought was almost too much to bear. There was another way. She could marry Alec—but could she take it?
Undecided, Mavis found that for once, she wasn’t hurrying to Ellington Avenue.
Kate saw Mavis as she passed her window, and, satisfied that Lily was now alone, her back rigid, she walked next door. Lifting a hand she thumped on Lily’s door, and when it was opened she stomped inside. ‘I saw that bloke leaving this morning. I suppose he stayed the night.’
‘No, he didn’t. Not that it’s anything to do with you.’
‘You told me that he was just a friend, but you’ve forgotten how thin these walls are. It’s bloody disgusting what the pair of you have been up to. It’s no wonder you’re the talk of the street.’
Lily flushed, but then she seemed to grow in stature as she shouted, ‘Yeah, and now I know who spread the gossip. Get out of my house, you two-faced bitch. Go on, get out!’
‘Me! You’ve got the cheek to call me two-faced. You’re the one who lied to me, and the one who was gonna sneak off without a word.’
‘My, my, you have been busy,’ Lily said, her voice ringing with disgust. ‘To know that I’m moving, you must have spent hours with your ear pressed to the wall.’
‘I didn’t need to. You were shouting so loud the whole bloody street must have heard.’
‘And just in case they didn’t, you’ll make sure they find out. Huh, some friend you turned out to be.’
‘I’m no friend of yours, not now I know you’re nothing but a tart.’
Lily’s face darkened with fury and before Kate had time to react, Lily slapped her hard across her cheek, screeching, ‘Get out!’
‘Why…you…you…’ Kate ground out, but then Lily shoved her over the threshold, slamming the door so loud that the windows rattled.
For a moment Kate just stood on the pavement, but then stomped across the road to Olive’s house, stiff with indignation, and still in shock that Lily had actually slapped her.
In Southampton, Pat Higgins was worried. Ron’s skin looked yellow, and even the whites of his eyes were tinged with the same hue. ‘Ron, you look funny. I think you should see a doctor.’
‘There’s nothing wrong with me that a whisky won’t put right.’
‘You haven’t been right for weeks and you hardly get out of bed.’
‘I’m tired, that’s all.’
‘What about those pains in your tummy?’
‘It’s nothing. I’m fine.’
Pat grabbed the mirror from her dressing table set and held it up in front of Ron’s face. ‘Do you call that fine?’
‘Blimey, I’m a bit yellow.’
‘I think it’s jaundice, Ron. You’ve got to see a doctor.’
‘Yeah, yeah, all right, but can I have a drink first? Please, love.’
‘Just the one,’ Pat said, ‘but then I want you up and dressed.’
Ron gulped whisky and then with a bit more urging he got up, staggering a little as he went through to the tiny kitchen to wash at the sink. When he
returned to get dressed, Pat saw his bloated stomach and swollen legs. She had to help him with his shoes, but finally he was ready for the short walk to the surgery.
They sat in the waiting room, thankfully with only a couple of people ahead of them, but when Pat looked at Ron she saw that his eyes were closed. ‘Don’t go to sleep,’ she hissed, ‘it’ll be your turn soon.’
‘Yeah, yeah, don’t nag.’
When Ron’s name was called, Pat urged him to his feet, the doctor’s eyebrows shooting up as they walked in. ‘Sit down,’ he ordered.
After only a few questions, it was established neither were registered with the doctor. They gave their details, and, once the doctor knew they were unrelated, Pat was ordered to wait outside. She was fuming as she walked out, leaving Ron to be examined by the doctor.
As the door closed behind Pat, the questions began, but Ron was evasive. ‘No,’ he said, ‘I’m not a heavy drinker.’
‘Mr Jackson, it’s obvious that you are jaundiced,’ the doctor said, then taking Ron’s blood pressure. ‘The readings are high, and I’d like to take a look at you now. Get undressed, please.’
With reluctance Ron did as he was told, and when lying on the bed the doctor came around the tattered curtain to look at him. It was obvious that he wasn’t happy with the examination, his lips pursed as he asked yet more questions.
‘Yes, I’ve been a bit tired,’ Ron answered, flushing when the doctor finally asked if he was impotent.
‘Right, you can get dressed, Mr Jackson.’
Ron sat facing the man across his desk again, watching as he scribbled a letter before he looked up, his expression grim as he said, ‘You have an enlarged liver, I suspect cirrhosis, and it needs further investigation immediately. I want you to take this letter along to the Southampton Infirmary, and don’t be surprised if you’re admitted.’
‘Leave it out. I just need a bit of something for this jaundice.’
‘Mr Jackson, if it were only a mild case of jaundice I would advise you best rest and to avoid any fatty foods. However, your symptoms indicate that you may have chronic liver disease and for that you need to be hospitalised.’
Ron avoided the man’s eyes and, as he was handed the letter, he stuffed it into his pocket, murmuring his thanks as he walked out.
‘Well, what did he say?’ Pat asked anxiously as she hurried to his side.
‘It’s nothing,’ Ron lied, ‘just a bit of jaundice. I’ve just got to rest and keep off fatty food.’
‘Gawd, that’s a relief,’ Pat said, tucking her hand through his arm as they walked home.
All Ron wanted was to get back into bed. The pain over his liver was excruciating and it was a bit of a job to hide it from Pat, but once he’d had a few more drinks he’d be all right.
Hospital. There was no way he was going into hospital. Unlike Pat, the nurses wouldn’t keep him supplied with whisky.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Edith was wondering what to do. Should she raise the subject? Yet if Mavis wasn’t ready to give her an answer, pushing her might be the worst thing to do. She waited until Mavis had been there for almost two hours, but then, unable to bear the apprehension any longer, she called the girl into the kitchen.
‘Mavis, is there any news? Has your mother said when you’ll be moving away?’
‘Yes, we’re moving to Peckham on Saturday. Mum said to tell you that Friday will be my last day here and I’ve got letters for my other jobs too.’
‘Three days,’ Edith gasped, ‘that soon! Mavis, I’m going to miss you so much.’
‘I’m…I’m gonna miss you too.’
Edith closed her eyes against the jolt in her chest. Mavis had said she was going to miss her, and that must mean that she’d decided to go. Edith knew she’d failed, that the future was once again uncertain, and she cursed Lily Jackson. If she’d had more time her plan could have worked. Her eyes snapped open when Mavis spoke again.
‘I’ve been thinking about what you said, but I still don’t know what to do. I hardly know Alec, and…and though like I said, I like him, I…I don’t love him.’
Edith waved a dismissive hand. ‘Liking someone is more important and it’s a good foundation for a happy marriage. If you like someone, love can grow, and usually does, especially with intimacy.’
Mavis was pink-cheeked. ‘Really?’
‘Yes, my dear. In fact, in some cultures it’s the parents who choose their daughter’s husband. The couple hardly meet, if at all, before the ceremony, and, let me tell you, in most cases these marriages are very successful.’
‘They…they are?’
‘Mavis, I can guess what is worrying you, but how can I put this delicately? Perhaps to say that my son is a very kind young man and if you’re nervous, apprehensive, about a certain aspect of married life, I’m sure he won’t rush you.’
‘He…he won’t?’
‘Of course not.’
Mavis was quiet for a moment, but then said, ‘I’m only sixteen and would need my mum’s permission.’
‘Yes, you would, but talk to her and I’m sure she’ll agree.’
‘But, Mrs Pugh, Alec hasn’t asked me to marry him yet.’
‘Mavis, if you come back this evening I’m sure that Alec will go down on one knee.’
Her eyes widening, Mavis said, ‘Really? Did he tell you that?’
‘He certainly did,’ Edith insisted, her lie ready. She had wanted to wait for Mavis’s answer before she spoke to Alec, but the girl didn’t need to know that. In fact, she didn’t want either of them to know that they were being manipulated and would have to tread carefully. ‘When Alec came home from work yesterday and I told him you were leaving, he was devastated. He said he couldn’t bear to lose you, that he’d do anything to keep you here. My son thinks the world of you, Mavis.’
‘He…he does?’
‘Yes, and if you agree to marry him I know you’ll be happy living here with us. Can you say the same about living with your mother and that man in Peckham?’
‘No…no…I suppose not,’ Mavis said. She hung her head, quiet for a while, but at last raised her eyes. ‘All right. I’ll marry Alec.’
‘Mavis, that’s wonderful. I can’t tell you how happy this has made me. Though there’s just one thing. I think it might be best if you don’t mention this conversation to Alec. As I said, he’s rather shy, and might be embarrassed that I’ve spoken to you about his feelings.’
‘I won’t say anything,’ Mavis said, but then glanced at the clock. ‘I’d better go or I’ll be late for my next job.’
‘Considering that you’re leaving, that’s very commendable, Mavis. Yes, go along, my dear, and I’ll look forward to seeing you later.’
‘Bye, Mrs Pugh.’
‘Goodbye, Mavis,’ Edith called happily. All she had to do now was to talk to Alec, and she’d do that as soon as he came home. Of course, she wasn’t worried. She’d seen the way her son looked at Mavis lately, and knew that with a bit of gentle persuasion he’d see the sense of marrying her.
It would be such a relief when it all came to fruition, but then Edith frowned as she realised there’d be another problem. There was no way the marriage could be arranged before Saturday and, until it could, Lily Jackson might insist that her daughter went with her. Edith didn’t want that. With Mavis so far away she’d be out of her control—and with a distance between them, the girl might change her mind.
Edith narrowed her eyes in thought. Under the circumstances, what she now had in mind might not be appropriate, but it was the only way to ensure that Mavis remained close by.
For the rest of the day, Mavis found it hard to concentrate on her work. She’d agreed to marry Alec, and it had been lovely to see how delighted Mrs Pugh was, but deep down Mavis felt a sense of dread. Surely she shouldn’t be feeling like this? Mrs Pugh had said that Alec wouldn’t rush her and that had gone a long way in alleviating her fears, but Mavis couldn’t shake off the thought that she’d made the wrong decision. Yet wha
t choice had she had? Oh, if only her mother wasn’t moving, if only she hadn’t been backed into a corner, with marriage to Alec the only way out.
Her work done, Mavis made her way home, still undecided and wondering if she should change her mind. Should she marry Alec? Or should she tell Mrs Pugh that she’d made a dreadful mistake?
It wasn’t until Mavis was nearly home that her mind suddenly quietened. Battersea was her home and she would never move away while there was a chance that her father would return. Yes, she would marry Alec, remain close to Cullen Street, and one day she might even come to love him.
Mavis walked in to find chaos. Her mother had stuff piled all over the place: odd bits of china, saucepans and frying pans, clothes that let off a pungent aroma of mildew.
‘Thank God you’re home,’ Lily said. ‘This lot wasn’t fit to sell and we need to get rid of it. I want you to load the pram and dump it. You’ll probably have to make a couple of trips.’
‘Dump it! But where?’
‘I dunno, but maybe on that bombsite a few streets away.’
‘Why dump it? Why not just leave it here?’
‘What, and have the new tenants talking about me? They’ll be telling everyone that I’m a mucky cow who left them to clear a load of tatty stuff from the house.’
Bewildered, Mavis shook her head. ‘What difference does it make? You won’t be around to hear about it, and, anyway, the landlord will probably clear it.’
‘I doubt that. The landlord had done nothing when we moved in and this place was in a right state. Now don’t argue, Mavis, just do as I say and get rid of it.’
Mavis knew that she couldn’t win, and so began to pick up as much as she could carry to the yard, throwing it haphazardly into the pram. It had been a while since she’d been made to take it out, and it certainly wasn’t something she’d missed.
