A Long Way from Heaven

by A Long Way from Heaven (retail) (epub)

  ‘Here an’ there,’ answered his friend, going outside to urinate against the shed. ‘I been sleepin’ ’ere Saturday and Sunday. I did spend a couple o’ nights out in the open but I got so bloody nithered I couldn’t sleep. I daren’t sleep any road, ’cause it were that bloody cold that I might not’ve woken up again.’ He shivered and went back into the shed.

  ‘But why did ye not come to us?’ asked Patrick incredulously. ‘Ye know we’d’ve helped ye.’

  ‘I didn’t reckon that lass o’ yours’d be too keen to ’ave me as a lodger. Specially as ’ow I got yer into trouble wi’ gyppos.’

  ‘Don’t talk soft. Ye know she wouldn’t turn ye away. I wouldn’t have let her anyhow, I’m still boss in me own home.’

  ‘I thought I were,’ replied John acidly. ‘Women, yer can’t trust ’em an inch.’

  ‘Listen, get yourself round to my house right this minute,’ ordered Patrick. ‘Tell Tommy I sent ye an’ she’s to give ye something to eat. How’ve ye gone on for food?’

  ‘Oh, no trouble,’ replied John, limping towards a haversack in the corner. ‘I ’ad me mates to ’elp me there.’ He unbuckled the pack and delved into it, quickly withdrawing his hand with a sharp yell. ‘You little swine!’ He sucked his finger and swung the bag round violently. ‘That’ll shake the buggers up a bit. Come out, yer little varmints!’ He put his hand swiftly inside and whipped out a squirming, somewhat dizzy creature with fur the colour of honey and thrust it at Patrick who stepped back quickly…

  ‘Jazers, I don’t want the bloody thing! What is it anyway?’ He peered warily into the vicious, beady eyes.

  ‘Ferret,’ answered John, reaching into the bag again and pulling out another squirming animal. ‘By, they’ve been worth their weight in gold ’ave these two little fellas. They’re as good an investment as yer could ever make. Yer’ll never go short o’ meat if y’ave one o’ these, Pat. Only trouble is,’ he licked a bead of blood from his finger, ‘they can be bad-tempered little devils when they want to be.’

  ‘Be a good fella an’ put ’em away, will ye?’ begged Patrick. ‘I don’t like the way that one keeps eyein’ me.’

  John laughed and stuffed the ferrets back into the bag, slinging it over his shoulder. ‘Right, Pat, I’ll take y’up on that offer if yer sure yer wife won’t chuck me out.’

  ‘Sure t’will be all right I tell ye, Tommy’ll make ye welcome. Now will ye get going an’ leave me to get on with some work?’

  * * *

  Thomasin did not exactly welcome John with open arms. ‘Gor, the bad penny turns up again,’ she said, hands on hips, as she opened the door and found him there.

  ‘’Ello, Tommy,’ he ventured, pulling a lock of his greasy hair.

  ‘Don’t you “Tommy” me, yer thievin’ little devil, I’ve a bone to pick wi’ you. Gettin’ my husband mixed up in your dirty goin’s on…’

  ‘I’m sorry.’

  ‘…gettin’ him a good hidin’ off them tinkers…’

  John became angry. ‘Look, I’ve said I’m sorry, what d’yer want, blood? Oh, never mind, pardon me for breathin’. I’m off.’

  ‘Oh, don’t be so bloody stupid!’ She grabbed hold of his arm as he turned to stalk off. ‘Get inside an’ get them clothes off.’

  Two of her neighbours who had been gossiping nearby stopped to listen, loose-jawed, to her invitation.

  ‘Oh, s’truth, what am I sayin’!’ Thomasin put a hand to her face. ‘They’ll be talkin’ about me for weeks now. What I meant to say was, yer not comin’ to live with us till yer’ve got a bit o’ that muck off yer.’

  ‘Yer mean I can stay?’ John followed her indoors, unslinging the bag from his shoulder and laying it on the floor.

  ‘Well, I’m not goin’ to all this trouble just to chuck y’out in street again,’ she answered, dragging the tin bath in front of the fire. ‘There we are, I’ll soon ’ave some water heated. Ah, Erin!’ She turned as the child came in from the yard. ‘Go see to Dickie, will yer? He’s screamin’ his bum off up there.’

  ‘Hello, Erin,’ said John, trying to keep the right side of his face away from the child, but with little success.

  ‘Oh, Uncle John!’ she exclaimed. ‘What’ve ye done to your face? ’Tis all funny. What ye got that black thing over your eye for, Uncle John?’

  John looked uncomfortably at Thomasin. ‘It’s an eye-patch. I’ve lost me eye.’

  Erin’s mouth dropped open. ‘Lost it? Where?’

  ‘Erin, go see to Dickie, there’s a good girl,’ said Thomasin, but Erin retained her morbid curiosity.

  ‘Will I go see if I can find it for ye, Unclejohn?’ She crept closer.

  ‘Yer’ll not find it, love,’ sighed John, taking off his jacket in an effort to distract the child and asked, ‘Where’s this brother o’yours, then?’

  ‘He’s upstairs. What’s under the eye-patch then, Uncle John?’

  ‘A hole,’ answered John bluntly.

  ‘Can I just take a peek?’

  ‘Erin, will you do as you’re told!’ shouted Thomasin, pushing the child towards the stairs. ‘Sorry about that, John, yer know what kids are.’

  ‘Aye,’ said John, his own children springing to mind.

  ‘Yer must miss ’em,’ she said quietly.

  He looked at her. ‘The kids yes, the wife I reckon I’m better off without.’

  ‘Oh, got a confirmed woman-hater on me hands ’ave I?’ said Thomasin, tipping the hot water into the bath.

  ‘Can yer blame me for feeling like that?’

  She shrugged. ‘S’none o’ my affair. I always reckon there’s two sides to everything. Anyhow, get them clothes off an’ I’ll give ’em a wash.’

  He hesitated awkwardly.

  ‘Oh, don’t worry.’ She waved aside his embarrassment. ‘I’ll be off in kitchen to feed bairn when Erin fetches ’im down.’ She bellowed up the stairs, ‘Erin, hurry up love, Uncle John wants to get a bath.’

  When Erin brought Dickie downstairs Thomasin shooed them into the kitchen and spoke over her shoulder to John. ‘There’s a towel over t’chair an’ some spare clothes o’ Pat’s.’ Then added cheekily before closing the door, ‘Don’t worry, I’ll not come an’ peep. Yer’ve nowt of interest I want to look at.’

  * * *

  When Patrick returned from work that evening he was pleasantly surprised to see John still in one piece.

  ‘I thought ye might not be too pleased,’ he whispered to his wife as he washed his hands ready for tea.

  ‘Yer good at understatement, aren’t yer, Pat?’ answered Thomasin. ‘Ah well, I could hardly turf him out when you so kindly told him he should come here, after all he is your friend.’

  ‘Ah, you’re a fine lass.’ Patrick wound his arms about her and nuzzled her neck. ‘I knew ye’d make him welcome, but I wasn’t so sure about the livestock.’

  ‘Livestock?’ Thomasin disengaged herself.

  ‘Ah, he’s not told ye?’ Patrick ran a hand over the back of his neck.

  ‘Told me what?’ she asked sternly.

  ‘Well, I don’t know whether…’

  ‘Told me what?’ she repeated.

  ‘He’s er… he’s brought some ferrets with him.’

  ‘Ferrets! He never said anythin’ to me about no ferrets.’ She marched into the adjoining room. ‘Oy!’ She kicked John’s feet off the fender and he came suddenly awake. ‘What’s all this about bloody ferrets?’

  John closed his eyes again. ‘Ah.’

  ‘I’ll give yer ah! Where are they?’

  He pointed vaguely to his haversack under the table. ‘In there.’

  ‘What?’ Thomasin nearly hit the roof. ‘Yer mean to tell me them animals’ve been in ’ere all day?’ She turned on Patrick. ‘What are yer thinkin’ about, lettin’ ’im bring ferrets in ’ere? They could’ve killed that bairn.’

  ‘Oh, no… they’re safe enough…’

  ‘Get ’em out!’

  ‘But…’

  ‘Get ’em out!
I’ll not ’ave them blasted things in my ’ouse.’

  ‘Where shall I put ’em?’ asked John picking up the bag.

  ‘By, yer really tempting Providence, aren’t yer?’ answered Thomasin crossly. ‘Get ’em out in t’yard.’

  ‘But somebody might pinch ’em!’

  ‘Yer think I care?’

  ‘Yer won’t say that when yer eatin’ juicy rabbit pies,’ said John. ‘Tell yer what, I’ll go up to Low Moor tonight and bag us a few.’

  ‘Out!’

  ‘All right, all right, they’re goin’!’ John put the bag of ferrets outside the door, then returned to sink back into the battered armchair and put his feet on the fireplace, with a wink at Patrick. ‘Home Sweet Home.’

  ‘An’ don’t be makin’ yerself too settled there either,’ ordered Thomasin. ‘It’s teatime, everybody up at table.’

  ‘Is she always like this?’ asked John, eyeing the food on the table hungrily.

  ‘Always,’ replied Patrick. ‘Come on, sit yourself down, John, and get started.’

  ‘Listen,’ said John, looking from Patrick to Thomasin. ‘I know it must be a bit of a nuisance havin’ me ’ere, an’ I’d really like to thank yer for takin’ me in. It’s no fun living rough.’

  ‘Don’t mention it,’ said Patrick, his mouth filled with bread.

  ‘Oh, no, don’t mention it,’ echoed Thomasin sarcastically. ‘We’re filthy wi’ money, we take in cadgers every day o’ week.’

  ‘There’s no need for that,’ said Patrick sharply.

  ‘Well, how are we supposed to keep him?’ asked his wife, still annoyed about the ferrets. She addressed John, ‘I don’t suppose yer’ve got a job to go to?’

  ‘Have you seen any advertisements for a one-eyed, gammy-legged bricklayer?’ replied John, scraping a thin covering of butter onto his bread. Baxter had wasted no time in replacing him, having heard that John would be in hospital for some time. ‘But don’t worry yer head about where t’money’s comin’ from. I’m not that far gone I can’t earn me livin’.’

  ‘I do worry though, John,’ Thomasin told him. ‘Don’t think I’m gonna act as a fence for your underhand dealings.’

  ‘My, Tommy, yer do use strange terms,’ laughed John. ‘What’s all this about a fence?’

  ‘Yer know very well.’ Thomasin wagged her knife at him. ‘I don’t want my ’ouse fillin’ wi’ stolen property.’

  ‘I’ve finished wi’ all that,’ replied John gravely. ‘I learnt me lesson.’

  ‘I wonder.’ Thomasin refilled the teacups. ‘Erin, love, eat yer crusts up.’

  ‘Look,’ said Patrick, ‘if the man says he’s going straight why won’t ye believe him? Leave the fella alone, will ye? Here, John, have another piece o’ shortcake.’

  ‘Oh aye, eat us out of ’ouse an’ ’ome,’ said Thomasin airily. ‘Only mark my words, no shenanigans in this ’ouse, remember.’

  ‘I don’t even know the meaning of the word.’ John finished eating and wiped his mouth on the back of his hand. ‘Besides, I can’t get mixed up in owt, I’ve got to save all me energy for that gyppo.’

  ‘Sure you’re not still on about that, are ye?’ Patrick pushed his chair back and reached for a pipe from the mantelshelf.

  ‘I told yer, that…’ John remembered the child’s presence, ‘…that so an’ so’s goin’ to pay.’

  ‘Ye know they’ve moved on?’ Patrick lit a taper from the fire and touched it to his pipe.

  ‘Aye,’ nodded John. ‘That was the first thing I did when I came out, went to check on ’em. But they’ll be back.’ He spoke with certainty.

  ‘As long as yer don’t get Pat mixed up wi’ ’em this time,’ said Thomasin, collecting the crockery to take to the kitchen. ‘I’ll not have him hurt again.’

  Patrick gave her a cutting glare. ‘Since when have you spoken for me?’

  ‘I only meant…’

  ‘I know what ye meant an’ I’ll thank ye to mind your own business. When the time comes that I have to hide behind a woman’s skirts that’s the time to order a coffin.’

  ‘Aye well, I dare say your pal’ll be able to provide that an’ all.’ She retired to the kitchen in a huff.

  ‘Pat, don’t be fallin’ out on my account,’ protested John. ‘I can fight me own battles.’

  ‘Oh, sure,’ answered Patrick. ‘Like ye did last time.’ His friend lowered his face. ‘Look, I’m sorry, John, but ’tis a fool y’are if ye think ye can take them on alone.’

  ‘I wasn’t reckoning to take ’em all on, just the big bloke.’

  ‘An’ him the size o’ Goliath? Sure, he’d make a lace doily out o’ ye in a matter o’ seconds. No, you’re goin’ to need help an’ when the time comes ye can rely on my support. Didn’t the man give me a hiding too?’

  ‘Yer a funny bloke, Pat.’

  ‘What’s so funny about wanting to help a friend?’ asked Patrick.

  ‘That’s what I mean, yer still look on me as a friend, even after I got yer into that bother. Yer must’ve lost a good bit in wages over that. Anybody else’d’ve told me where to go…’

  Patrick grinned. There was a great deal of truth in what John had said. A more unlikely partnership one would not find. While Patrick was a stickler for the truth and took pride in his integrity John was never as happy as when he had put one over on someone.

  John sank lower into the chair. ‘What I said before — about women, I mean – well, it were a bit harsh. She’s a good sort is your Tommy, under all that bluster.’

  ‘She is.’ Patrick’s eyes creased at the corners. ‘She’s the best. I wouldn’t swap her for a brewery.’ He examined his hands, probing at the many cuts which criss-crossed his knuckles. ‘Ye know, John, ye were right in part about all this overtime I’ve been takin’ on. I’ve been working like fifty Trojans an’ getting nowhere. There’s a limit to how many hours a man can work in one day. But,’ he became intense, ‘I want to buy her so many things…’ A bout of thoughtful puffing on his pipe, then a smile. ‘Still, I’ve a surprise lined up for the summer. Don’t breathe a word but I’m taking them to the seaside. Tommy’s always sayin’ how she’d love to see the sea. I’ve almost enough saved for a good day out.’

  ‘It dun’t do to give ’em everything they want,’ warned John. ‘She’ll start to take yer for granted.’

  Patrick shook his head. ‘Not my Tommy.’ He looked up as Thomasin showed Father Kelly into the room. ‘Well, hello Liam. What brings you here tonight, as if I need to ask.’ Liam had been a constant visitor since Richard’s birth, demanding to know when they were going to have the child baptised.

  John stood up and struggled into his jacket – or rather Pat’s jacket, as his own clothes were still drying on a rail over the fireplace. ‘I think I’ll just nip out for an hour or so, an’ leave you two to talk in peace.’ The last thing he wanted was to get into conversation with a priest.

  ‘Don’t be comin’ ’ome sozzled,’ threatened Thomasin, unrolling her sleeves having completed the washing-up. She passed a pile of rags to Erin and a pair of scissors. ‘There y’are, yer can help me with this rug.’ She sat down by the fireside and spread the half-finished rug over her knee.

  ‘Ye’ve got yourselves a lodger then?’ Liam sat opposite her.

  ‘You’re very adept at probing boils, Liam,’ she answered.

  ‘Sore point, is it? Well, so is the matter I’m about to raise.’ Liam’s green eyes were serious. ‘’Tis taking ye some time to decide about the child’s baptism.’

  Patrick looked at his wife, then back at Liam. ‘We’ve finally come to a decision, Father, but ye may not like it.’

  ‘Father, is it?’ said Liam, the flames of the fire reflected in his brilliant eyes. ‘Then I’m sure I’m not going to like it.’

  ‘We’ve decided not to bother having the baby baptised,’ Patrick told him.

  ‘Not to bother? Now there’s an odd choice o’ phrase. Ye mean not into the Catholic faith?’

  ‘Not into any fa
ith, Liam.’

  The priest digested Patrick’s words, looking from one to the other. ‘Ye cannot be serious?’

  ‘Why not?’ asked Thomasin casually. It had been her decision in the end; Patrick had not been able to make up his mind and had left it to her. ‘What’s the point of havin’ him baptised when we don’t believe ourselves? It’s two-faced.’

  ‘I find it hard to accept that ye don’t believe in anything,’ said Liam, who knew that Patrick, while insisting that he had finished with the church, might one day be persuaded to return. ‘Is there nothing ye hold sacred?’

  Thomasin shrugged and laid down the rug to rub at her stiff fingers. She took no enjoyment from what she was about to say. Liam administered help to those who needed it and he had been a good friend to Patrick. ‘No, Liam, I don’t believe in anything. There might be a God, but if there is I don’t reckon He’s all that good.’

  Liam closed his eyes as if to shut out the pain. ‘Hard as it is for me to stomach I can understand your feelings – but your children are a different matter. I beg you, don’t deny young Dickie his right.’

  ‘Liam, ye make it sound as though we’re inflicting some sort o’ torture,’ said Patrick, though sorry for causing his friend so much hurt still unrepentant. ‘’Tis all decided. When he’s old enough he can choose for himself but until then we’ll continue as we are. I can’t see the difference it’ll make.’ He attempted a diversion. ‘Tommy, go fetch the Father a cup o’ tea.’

  Liam declined and rose wearily. ‘Thank ye no, ’tis something stronger I’m in need of.’

  Patrick began to rise too. ‘Just the excuse I’ve been seeking.’

  ‘An’ did I say I wanted company?’ demanded Liam sharply, then turned away.

  ‘I’ll show y’out, then,’ offered Thomasin with a concerned look at her husband who had flopped back to his seat.

  ‘Don’t bother.’ The priest waved her away. ‘If I don’t know me way now ’tis hard luck.’ His hand paused on the knob and he stared down at it as he spoke. ‘Ye’ll be very welcome whenever ye bring Erin to church, Patrick Feeney. I’ve always been a friend, as Godless as y’are, but I have to tell ye,’ he looked over his shoulder now, ‘that I can no longer find the charity to visit a house that refuses to admit Our Lord. Until you choose to let Him in, any meeting we might have must be restricted to the church. It seems all you’re intent on doing is flinging my friendship back in me face.’ So saying, he closed the door gently behind him.