by Kitty Neale
‘I’m sorry, Mother, but I was out for less than half an hour.’
‘I don’t see why you have to shop three or four times a week,’ Edith said as Mavis helped her out of bed. ‘Why don’t you get everything we need in one go?’
Mavis hesitated, but then said, ‘It would take too long. Doing it this way I’m only out for a short while.’
‘Yes, yes, I suppose you’re right,’ Edith said impatiently as she was helped onto the commode. Grace was shouting for her mother now, the child making a racket as usual. ‘Go and see what Grace is up to, and keep her out of my room. Her incessant whining drives me mad.’
‘I’m sorry. I’ll try to keep her quiet. Ring your bell when you’ve finished,’ Mavis said meekly as she hurried from the room.
When it was time to summon Mavis again, Edith did just that, grimacing in pain as Mavis helped her back into bed. When alone again she picked up her book, deciding to read for a while, but after only a few pages her vision blurred, a symptom of her illness that was almost impossible to bear.
Impatiently, Edith put the book down. She’d hoped to teach Mavis to read, something that had proved impossible, but giving up the lessons turned out to be a blessing. When they married, Edith hadn’t foreseen that Alec would become besotted with his new wife. He had fawned over Mavis all the time, so much so that he seemed to resent his own mother’s presence. She’d been unable to hide her annoyance and the kind façade she had presented to Mavis dropped. It had been a mistake. It had played into her daughter-in-law’s hands, the girl then nagging Alec for a place of their own.
Of course, Edith wasn’t going to stand for that, and so she had begun to undermine Mavis in everything she did. The fact that Mavis hadn’t been able to learn to read had served her well, and she had also complained of being neglected, something that appalled her son.
Slowly, Alec’s rose-tinted vision had dimmed, and now Edith smiled with satisfaction. Mavis had had the audacity to try to take her son away from her, something she would never forgive, but the girl would never win. Edith knew that Alec was hers again now; her role of the poor, suffering mother, neglected by his useless wife, simple to play.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
‘That smells like my favourite,’ Pete said, sniffing the air as he walked in after a day’s work.
‘Yeah, sausages, onions and mash,’ Lily told him.
‘Smashing,’ he said, walking over to kiss her cheek. ‘I’ll get myself cleaned up.’
Lily smiled. Pete’s routine was always the same. He’d come in, kiss her and then say the same thing before going upstairs to the bathroom. Yes, the indoor bathroom, a luxury she now took for granted. There was something else she had taken for granted too, but she’d been proved wrong, and now she didn’t know how Pete was going to take the news. After all this time it would come as a shock, just as it had to her.
Lily could time Pete like a clock and knew he’d be down soon so, mixing the Bisto, she made the gravy, and as expected he appeared just as she put their dinner on the table. He’d say the same thing at this point too, and smiling, Lily waited.
‘I timed that just right, love.’
‘Yes, you did,’ she said, deciding to keep the news to herself until he’d finished eating. It didn’t take long, the food disappearing rapidly off his plate.
‘That was great,’ he said, laying down his knife and fork.
‘Marilyn’s in a bit of a state.’
‘Is she? Why’s that?’
‘If I tell you, you’ll have to keep it to yourself. If Ian finds out, he’d go mad.’
‘Well, we can’t have that. Don’t worry, I won’t say anything—but mad about what?’
‘Marilyn has found out that Rhona is taking the birth control pill.’
‘Is she? Blimey, you’re right. Ian would go potty.’
‘Maybe I should have been on it too.’
Pete’s brows creased as he looked at her. ‘You, but why?’
‘Ain’t it obvious, you soppy sod?’ Lily said, nerves making her sound snappy.
He shook his head. ‘Not to me it ain’t.’
‘If I’d been on the pill, I wouldn’t have gone and got myself pregnant.’
‘Surely the pill wasn’t around when you had Mavis?’
‘I’m not talking about Mavis. I’m talking about the baby I’m carrying now.’
The penny dropped at last, and Pete’s face stretched with astonishment. ‘A baby! You’re having a baby! Oh, Lily, Lily,’ he cried, jumping to his feet to pull her into his arms. ‘I can’t believe it.’
‘I couldn’t either. I mean, I’m forty-four, and thought it was the early change when my monthlies stopped.’
‘How far along are you?’
‘Just over four months.’
Pete pulled back, his hand now stroking her tummy. ‘Yeah, I can feel a bit of a bulge but you ain’t showing much.’
‘I doubt that’ll last much longer.’
‘Sit down,’ he now urged. ‘You need to take it easy.’
‘I’m not ill, Pete, I’m pregnant, though I must admit I tire easily. To be honest, I wasn’t sure how you’d take it, but you look pleased.’
‘Pleased! Blimey, love, that’s an understatement. I’m over the moon!’
Lily wasn’t. From the moment the doctor told her she was pregnant, all she’d felt was a feeling of dread. Mavis was backward. What if this baby was the same? Surely it wouldn’t happen again? Surely this time she’d have a perfect son or daughter?
Kate Truman had kept watch on the house opposite on and off all day, at one time sure that she had glimpsed a face looking back at her. It had frightened her, so much so that when her husband came home, she pounced as soon as he walked in the door. ‘Bill, there’s someone in number ten, and I reckon it’s a nutter.’
‘A nutter! Where’s Ellie?’
‘She’s upstairs getting ready.’
‘Ready for what?’
‘She’s got a date with Jack, you know, that lad who lives a couple of streets away.’
‘She can forget it. I ain’t having her going out if there’s a maniac on the prowl.’
Kate sighed. Ellie was seventeen now, but unlike Sandra and their son, both of whom had left home a few years ago, Bill still treated her like a child. If he tried to keep her in all hell would break loose and, cursing her thoughtlessness, Kate placated, ‘I could be wrong and, as Olive said, it might just be squatters. Before you keep Ellie in, why don’t you go over and check it out?’
‘Bloody hell, woman, I’ve only just walked in the door and I’m starving.’
‘It won’t take a minute, Bill, and anyway, the potatoes aren’t ready yet.’
‘All right, all right,’ he said, turning on his heel to march across the street. Kate stood on the doorstep, shivering in the cold as she watched nervously, but though Bill thumped repeatedly on the door, nothing stirred.
‘Try going round the back,’ she called.
Bill threw her a look of annoyance, but did as she suggested. When he’d been gone for several minutes, Kate began to worry. What if she’d been right? What if there was someone dangerous in there? She’d sent Bill over to face him alone; but just as she was about to run for help, the front door was flung open.
Bill appeared, beckoning frantically. ‘Kate, quick. Get over here.’
Kate ran across the road, and after following her husband into a room at the front of the house, she looked to where his finger was pointing. At first Kate thought she was looking at a pile of rags, but then she saw it was someone hunched over, their face hidden.
‘He needs our help,’ Bill said quietly.
It was then that the man looked up and Kate saw a filthy face with a long, scraggly, matted beard. The man coughed, and then, with a voice that was little more than a croak, he managed to speak. ‘Hello, Kate.’
She stepped back in shock, puzzled. The man was a tramp, a filthy, dirty tramp. How did he know her name?
Bill moved to cro
uch in front of him, and then, turning to look over his shoulder at Kate, he said, ‘Come on, love. Give me a hand. We need to get him over to our place.’
‘Our place! Are you mad?’
‘Kate, don’t you recognise him? It’s Ron—Ron Jackson.’
‘Ron! Oh, my God,’ Kate cried, but as she went to Bill’s side she reeled back again. It couldn’t be Ron, it just couldn’t. This filthy, emaciated man stank, an eye-stinging mixture of stale urine, dirt and booze.
‘Can you stand up, Ron?’ Bill asked.
‘No, Bill,’ Kate cried. ‘We can’t take him in. He’s not only dirty, he’s probably flea-ridden as well.’
‘We ain’t leaving him here!’
The man raised his head again, and with great effort he gasped, ‘I’ll be all right, Bill. Just tell me where she is. Where’s Lily?’
There was an awful groan, and before Bill got a chance to answer his question, Ron sank backwards.
‘Kate, for God’s sake, give me a hand,’ Bill cried.
At last she moved, holding her breath as she crouched beside her husband. ‘He ain’t dead, is he?’ she asked nervously.
Bill looked worried as he felt for a pulse, but then said, ‘He’s alive, but from the look of him he’s in a bad way. Give me a hand and we’ll see if we can carry him.’
‘No, I ain’t touching him,’ she insisted. ‘Anyway, he ain’t our responsibility, there’s someone else who should take him in. Leave him here and I’ll send Ellie round to fetch her.’
‘Do that, but in the meantime I ain’t leaving him here to freeze to bloody death,’ Bill snapped as he lifted Ron into his arms. ‘Bloody hell, he’s so light he must be all skin and bone.’
Tight-lipped, Kate said, ‘He’s gonna stink the place out. If you insist on taking him home I want him stripped and washed straightaway. And you’ll have to do it, Bill, ’cos I ain’t.’
‘Huh, you’re all heart, Kate.’
As they walked outside, Olive Wilson came running towards them, saying breathlessly, ‘I saw you going over to number ten,’ but then her face paled. ‘Bill, who is that?’
‘It’s Ron Jackson and he’s in a bad way,’ Bill called without stopping as he carried the man across the road.
‘Ron Jackson,’ Olive gasped. ‘For a minute I thought…’
‘Thought what?’ questioned Kate.
Olive waved a hand dismissively ‘Oh, it was nothing, but I can’t believe that’s Ron Jackson. He looks like a tramp!’
‘He is, and sorry, Olive, but Bill’s daft enough to lay him on our sofa without covering it first,’ Kate said as she too hurried away.
Olive followed behind, walking in without an invitation as Kate shouted, ‘Wait, Bill, don’t put him down yet.’
‘He stinks,’ Olive said, as Kate threw an old blanket on the sofa, only then allowing Bill to lay Ron down.
‘You’re telling me,’ she agreed, staring pointedly at her husband.
‘All right, all right, I’ll clean him up. Get me a bowl of water and he’ll need a change of clothes.’
Kate marched from the room, returning with the water, a rag and an old towel. She also had a few of Bill’s old clothes over her arm. ‘Right, Bill, get on with it.’
‘Kate,’ said Olive. ‘I think he needs to see a doctor. Would you like me to ring the surgery?’
Here we go again, Kate thought, Olive taking yet another opportunity to let it be known that she had a telephone. ‘It’s hardly worth it. He ain’t staying here for long.’
‘I don’t think we should wait,’ Bill urged.
‘Oh, all right,’ she huffed, and as Olive hurried out Kate called her daughter. The sooner she got Ron Jackson out of her house, the better.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Mavis was clearing up the dinner things and at the same time doing her best to keep an eye on the children. Other than seeing Jenny for a cup of tea that morning, the day had been like any other. She was only twenty-three but, married with two children, she felt so much older. Oh, to be free of this house for a while. If only Alec could take her out in the evenings, if just to the pictures, but he had always been so staid, happy to stay at home with his books or stamp collection. Of course, nowadays, even if they wanted to, his mother’s illness meant it was impossible to go out. She would never allow it—would refuse to let anyone else in to look after her, or the children.
Careful not to drop anything, Mavis put the dishes away, thankful that the children were still quietly absorbed with their drawing books. The doorbell rang, startling Mavis, but as she wondered who it was, a strange feeling washed over her.
The doorbell rang again, but Mavis just stood, unmoving, dread clutching her stomach into a knot. Alec must have left his mother’s room to answer it and she could hear a murmur of voices, yet still Mavis remained frozen to the spot until her husband’s voice summoned her.
‘Mavis, come here. There’s someone to see you.’
On leaden feet she walked to the door. What was the matter with her? Why did she feel like this? Alec hadn’t invited the caller in, and just hissed in her ear as he moved to one side, ‘It’s someone called Ellie Truman.’
Mavis didn’t recognise the young woman, but Truman? ‘Hello,’ she said. ‘You…you wanted to see me?’
‘Yeah, my mum sent me round. She said you’ve got to come straightaway.’
‘Come? Come where?’
‘To our house in Cullen Street.’
‘Cullen Street,’ Mavis repeated, but then it hit her. Ellie Truman, Sandra’s younger sister. ‘Why does your mother want to see me?’
‘She said to tell you that your dad’s turned up and that he’s in a bad way.’
‘My father!’ Mavis gasped, reeling in shock.
‘Are you coming or not?’
‘Yes, yes, of course,’ she said, and turning she rushed to the hall cupboard to grab her coat.
‘Mavis, what on earth do you think you’re doing?’ Alec asked as he watched her in disbelief. ‘What about my mother? The children? You can’t just dash off.’
Something swelled inside Mavis. Her father was back and from what Ellie said he was ill. Nothing was going to keep her away from him—nothing!
‘You see to them for once,’ she yelled, ignoring Alec’s indignant expression as she flew out of the house.
Alec couldn’t believe it. ‘Mavis, come back at once,’ he shouted.
‘No, Alec, I won’t,’ she yelled, running hell for leather down the avenue.
Fuming, he called to her again, but to no avail. James, followed by Grace, ran along the hall, both looking close to tears.
‘Where’s Mummy gone?’ Grace wailed.
Alec took in great gulps of air, fighting to hold his temper. ‘She had to go out, but she’ll be back soon,’ he said, closing the street door. ‘Now come and say goodnight to Grandma and then it’s time for bed.’
‘Don’t want to,’ Grace said petulantly.
‘You’ll do as I say. Now come along,’ Alec insisted as he bent down to grab his daughter’s hand, dragging her into his mother’s room.
‘Alec, what’s going on? Who was that at the door?’
‘I’ll tell you after I’ve got these two to bed. Say goodnight, James, you too, Grace.’
‘Goodnight, Grandma,’ James said dutifully.
Grace just scowled, but his mother said impatiently, ‘Leave it for once. Just get them out of here.’
Alec nodded and, grim-faced, he took the children upstairs. Mavis wasn’t there to bathe them, and as though sensing his mood both children obeyed him when he told them to wash their hands and faces. That done, he left James to get into his pyjamas and into bed while he saw to Grace.
‘Go straight to sleep,’ Alec ordered his daughter, and then marching into James’s room he said the same, unconcerned that both of them looked close to tears.
‘Alec, tell me what’s going on, and where is Mavis?’ his mother asked as soon as he walked back into her room.
; ‘She’s gone to see her father.’
‘What! He’s back?’
‘Yes, it seems so, but from what I could gather, he’s ill.’
‘How long is she going to be?’
‘I’ve no idea.’
‘As usual, Mavis hasn’t given a thought to me, or my needs. The least she could have done was to make sure I didn’t need my commode before she left.’
‘I know, Mother. I tried to stop her, but she wouldn’t listen.’
‘It isn’t good enough, Alec.’
‘I doubt she’ll be long.’
‘I hope you’re right, but this can’t happen again. I can’t be left on my own while she goes off to see her father.’
‘Don’t worry, Mother. Your needs must come first and I won’t have you neglected. I’ll talk to Mavis and make sure she understands that.’
Mavis flew to the sofa, unable to believe that this was her father until his blue eyes opened, the only thing recognisable in a face so thin it looked almost skeletal. The whites of his eyes looked yellow, his skin too, and breaking down she fell to her knees beside him. ‘Oh, Dad…Dad.’
‘Mavis? Is that you, Mavis?’
‘Yes, Dad, it’s me.’
‘Where’s your mother?’
‘She moved away, Dad, years ago.’
‘I want to see her—have to see her,’ he said weakly, his eyes then closing again.
‘Dad,’ Mavis cried.
‘He keeps drifting in and out of consciousness,’ Kate Truman said. ‘If you ask me, he should be in hospital.’
‘Has anyone called a doctor?’
‘Yeah, and hopefully he’s on his way.’
‘What happened to him, Kate?’
‘Search me. We found him in number ten and brought him here. Bill cleaned him up a bit, but he’s hardly said a word, well, except to ask for your mother.’
