by Joan Jonker
‘It’ll blow over, queen, don’t fret. She’s probably feeling worse than you do, ’cos after all it was her what caused the row. But I’m glad yer told her off because she was very naughty to say what she did, she had no right. She must have upset the poor lad something terrible.’
‘I won’t sleep tonight for thinking about him,’ Lucy said. ‘I hope he doesn’t tell his mam because it would upset her, and with her being sick, she shouldn’t be disturbed.’
Titch, who had been listening intently, now said, ‘When his dad was alive, things were different in that house. They were the most loving family yer could meet. He was a fine man, was Jim Fletcher. A good husband and a good father. It was a tragedy that he died so young, and losing him nearly killed Olive, his wife. She’s been ailing ever since. And hearing all this has put me to shame. I used to call there often when Jim was alive, but it’s years since I knocked on their door. Some friend I’ve turned out to be.’
‘It’s never too late to put a wrong right, son. I’m sure Olive would love to see yer. And it would do the boy good, ’cos they don’t seem to get many visitors.’
‘Oh, yes, Mr Titch, please call and see them,’ Lucy said eagerly. ‘Steve hasn’t got many friends because he’s always busy doing jobs for people. He’ll do anything to earn some money, turn his hand to anything. He’d be made up to have a man to talk to.’
‘I’ll go tomorrow, I promise.’
‘Never put off till tomorrow what yer can do today,’ Aggie told him. ‘Ye’re only sitting on yer backside twiddling yer thumbs, so make the effort now. The lad must be at home if Lucy’s just seen him, and if yer leave it until tomorrow he might be out.’
‘He will be out tomorrow, Mr Titch. He helps the milkman on a Saturday morning, then takes orders out for the corner shop.’ Lucy held out her palms as though pleading. ‘If yer go now, it will help him feel better after what Rhoda said. Cheer him up a bit.’
Titch lifted his own hands in surrender. ‘Okay, okay! I’m not going to argue with two women because I know I wouldn’t stand an earthly. So I’ll go out of the door with you, Lucy, and yer can watch me walk up to the Fletchers’ house. Then yer can sleep contented in yer bed tonight.’
It was on impulse that Lucy threw her arms around his neck and planted a kiss on his cheek. ‘Oh, thank you, Mr Titch, it’s no wonder Mrs Aggie loves the bones of yer. But yer won’t let on about Rhoda, will yer? Otherwise he’ll think that’s the only reason yer called to see them.’
Titch grinned, and with a stiffened finger made a cross on his chest. ‘Cross my heart and hope to die, sweetheart. Yer can count on me, I’ll be the soul of discretion.’
Across the street, Mrs Fleming was eyeing her daughter. ‘What’s up with you, coming in before ye’re shouted? And why have yer got a face on yer like a wet week?’
‘I’ve had a row with Lucy, that’s what, and we’ve fallen out.’ Rhoda was feeling angry with herself. Deep down she knew she was at fault; she should never have said that to Steve. She didn’t even know why she had done so, except that it was always Lucy he spoke to, never her. Not that she was jealous. I mean, why would she be jealous of him?
‘It’s not like you two to row. What have yer fallen out over?’
‘It was over that Steve Fletcher. He was hanging around and I told him we didn’t want him because he was dirty and he’s got scabs on his legs. Lucy didn’t like what I said, and when he’d gone yer should have heard the way she took off on me! Called me for everything, she did. Then she gave me the rope back and said she wasn’t playing out no more.’
Jessie Fleming folded her arms and hitched up her ample bosom. ‘Are you telling me that yer told Steve to his face that he was dirty?’ She didn’t wait for an answer because guilt was written all over her daughter’s face. ‘You little flamer! Just wait till yer dad gets in and hears that. He’ll tan your backside so hard yer won’t be able to sit for a week.’
‘I don’t know what all the fuss is about,’ Rhoda said defiantly. ‘He is dirty and their house is filthy. Everybody knows it and I was only speaking the truth.’
‘Oh, aye, and who is everybody, pray? Yer’ve never heard me speak ill of the Fletchers because I’ve had no cause to. They’re down on their luck, there’s no two ways about that, but we were in the same boat ourselves a couple of years back, when yer dad was out of work. You won’t remember because yer were too young, but we were living from hand to mouth then, just like the Fletchers are now. Only it’s worse for them because they’ve no man in the house. So don’t you go looking down yer nose at anyone, Lady Muck, ’cos that person could very easily have been you.’
‘Mrs Bentley thinks they’re dirty,’ Rhoda said, feeling sorrier with every second the clock ticked away. ‘She won’t let her Andrew even talk to Steve, never mind play with him. And she said they’ve got fleas and bugs.’
‘That stuck-up cow! Listen to me, young lady, that Sheila Bentley thinks we’re all dirt beneath her feet. She reckons she’s a cut above the rest of us, but it’s all show. Her husband is only a labourer, like yer dad, but to hear her talk yer’d think he was a bleedin’ director or something. She gives the impression they’re rolling in money, but yer should stand behind her in the shops and yer’d soon realise very little money goes on food. Outward appearances are more important to her than putting food in their bellies. Her husband’s not a bad man, but he’s under her thumb and jumps when she tells him to. And as for Andrew – well, he’s a proper little snob. Any other kid around here would be called Andy, but that’s too common for him. He has to have his full title.’
Rhoda hung her head. ‘I’m sorry I said what I did, Mam. Me and my big mouth have got me into trouble. I’ve lost me best friend, and now me dad will start on me when he comes in from work.’
Jessie tilted her head. ‘Are yer truly sorry, or just saying it to get out of being given a hiding off yer dad?’
‘I was sorry as soon as I’d said it. I could have bitten me tongue out.’ The girl looked the picture of misery. ‘And when Lucy took off on me, I felt really ashamed.’
‘She’s got a head on her shoulders, that girl. She’s kind and wouldn’t intentionally hurt anyone for the world. It’s a pity ye’re not more like her.’ Jessie saw her daughter’s face crumble and held out her arms. ‘Come here, yer daft nit. What am I going to do with yer, eh?’ She patted Rhoda’s back as sobs shook her body. ‘Come on now, be a big girl. I won’t tell yer dad if yer promise me two things. One, that yer’ll say sorry to Lucy and make up with her. And two, that when yer see Steve yer’ll give him a nice, big, friendly smile.’ She held her daughter away and looked into her red-rimmed eyes. ‘Is that a deal?’
Rhoda wasn’t so sure about the whole deal. ‘I’ll see Lucy ’cos I don’t want to fall out with her for ever. We’ve always said we’ll be friends all our lives. But I don’t think Steve will want to have anything to do with me after what I said.’
‘You’re the one who started all the trouble, so it’s up to you to sort it out. And don’t forget, ye’re twelve years of age now, and it’s time to grow up. Steve’s had to grow up quick, he had it thrust upon him. The day his dad died, he became the man of the house. And God only knows, he’s done his level best to be just that.’
With every word her mother spoke, Rhoda became more ashamed. Her voice choked, she said, ‘I’ll do what yer said, Mam. I’ll see Lucy and Steve, and I’ll tell them both how sorry I am. And in future, when I hear that Andrew Bentley calling Steve names, I’ll clock him one.’
Jessie smiled and gave her a hug. ‘That’s my girl. But I wouldn’t go as far as clocking him one, I don’t think yer dad would like that. Just call him Andy – that should get his goat.’
Steve opened the door and gaped when he saw who was standing there. He vaguely remembered, when he was a toddler, this man used to come to their house when he was home on leave. But that was all he could remember, and it was years ago. He knew who he was, though, ’cos everybody in the street knew Titch,
he was such a colourful character. ‘Did yer want something, Mr McBride?’
‘I want to offer an apology to yer mam for not coming to see her for so long. If it’s possible, Steve, I’d like to have a word with her.’
Steve hesitated. He knew his mam didn’t like visitors because of the state of the house. ‘I’ll have to ask her. She’s not been well and she’s lying down on the couch.’
‘I understand that, son, but a visit from an old friend might just cheer her up. Don’t you agree? She used to be full of spirit, your mam, so she’ll probably tear a strip off me for staying away so long.’
Steve was torn. He knew if he asked his mother, she’d tell him to make an excuse to this man and send him away. But she never went over the door to meet people to talk to. She said he was all the company she needed, but he worried about her. She was too young to shut herself away from the outside world, and he was too young to know how to change things. If he let this chance slip, he might never get another. ‘Step inside, Mr McBride, and I’ll give her a shout.’
Titch stepped into the hall and waited for Steve to close the door. Then the boy called out, ‘Yer’ve got a visitor, Mam.’
‘Oh, don’t let anyone in, son, I’m not fit to be seen.’
Titch took over. ‘Then cover yerself up, Olive Fletcher, ’cos I’m coming in whether ye’re respectable or not.’
‘Oh, my God!’ Olive covered her mouth with a hand as she pulled a knitted shawl across her chest. Her eyes darted around the room, seeing it as she knew Titch would and wishing the floor would open and swallow her up. ‘What possessed you to come after all this time? As yer can see, we’re not exactly ready for visitors.’
‘I haven’t come as a visitor, Olive, I’ve come as an old friend. I’m expecting yer to throw the book at me, so go ahead. Whatever names yer call me, I deserve for not keeping in touch with yer to see how yer were getting on.’
Olive waved a hand around the room. ‘Yer can see how I’ve fared, I don’t need to tell yer. I’ve come as low as it’s possible to come. And I’ve brought me son down with me.’
Titch pulled a rickety chair from the table. ‘I never used to wait to be asked to sit down, and I’m not waiting now. Yer might think I’ve got a bloody cheek to land meself on yer after all these years, and yer’d be right. But we used to be good friends, Olive, and that should stand for something. I’m away a lot, as yer know, but I’ve watched Steve grow up, and he’s a credit to yer.’
Olive’s face softened as she looked to where Steve was leaning on a sideboard that was minus a drawer and had a door hanging loosely on its broken hinges. ‘My son is one in a million. I don’t think I’d have survived without him.’
‘Yer’ve had it hard, have yer?’ Titch asked softly, afraid of overstepping the mark and being told it was none of his business.
‘It’s been a nightmare, a living nightmare. I managed to cope for a couple of years after Jim died, by pawning things. But I never had the money to redeem them, so you can see for yerself how we’ve ended up. Ornaments, pictures, everything we had went to the pawnshop. And I’ve never been able to replace them. The furniture, bedding and curtains, they’re all on their last legs and there’s not a snowball’s chance in hell of me being able to renew them.’
‘I leave school in nine months,’ Steve said, ‘and my wages will help.’
Olive smiled at him, and all the love she felt for her son showed in that smile. ‘Yeah, we’ll be in clover, then, love. And yer never know, I might start to feel better and I’ll be able to look for a little job.’
‘Have yer been poorly for long?’ Titch asked. ‘When I used to come, yer were always the picture of health.’
‘I’ve never been the same since Jim died. I just don’t seem to have the energy or the willpower. And I’ve got to say that we don’t get the right food to keep us strong and healthy. We can only afford the cheapest of everything.’
Titch was thoughtful. She’s not really sick, he thought, she’s still grieving for Jim. And until she accepts that, she’ll spend her life on that couch. And that’s not fair to her son. It was clear that she needed an incentive to bring her to life again. ‘That’s like asking which comes first, Olive, the chicken or the egg. Yer can’t get a job until yer build yerself up, and yer can’t build yerself up until yer get a job! Couldn’t yer get an hour here and there, doing light work?’
‘Me mam can’t go to work,’ Steve said, quickly defending his mother. ‘She’s not strong enough to take a job on.’
‘It was only a thought, son. I had it in mind that if she got out a bit and mixed with people, she might start to feel better.’ Titch smiled at the boy who was left to carry a burden of work and worry that was too great for his young shoulders. He sent a message with his eyes, hoping Steve would understand he wasn’t trying to run their lives for them, he was only trying to help. ‘Your mam used to be a real goer when she was younger. She could dance the feet off anyone. And she was so pretty she could charm the ruddy birds off the trees. The fellers at the Grafton used to queue up to dance with her.’
Steve seemed to grow in stature and his face filled with pride. ‘Me mam’s still pretty. I bet she’s the prettiest woman in the street.’
This gave Titch the opening he was waiting for. ‘She’s pretty all right, but there’s someone else who would be joining her on the stage if there was a beauty contest. I wouldn’t know which one to choose.’
Olive was now getting embarrassed. ‘Hey, knock it off, you two. Any man who fell for me charms now would have to have very bad eyesight.’
Titch leaned forward, elbows on knees and fingers laced. ‘The other woman I’m talking about is Irene Pollard. D’yer remember her?’
‘Of course I remember Irene! I haven’t spoken to her for years because I never go over the door. But I see her passing the window on her way to the shops.’ Olive’s voice was stronger now and there was interest in her eyes. ‘A smashing woman, she is. One of the best yer’ll find.’ A faraway look came over her face as memories flooded back. ‘God, when I think of the laughs we used to have. Her and George, and me and Jim, used to go out together until the children came along. They were good times, and I remember it was always Irene who was the one who made people laugh.’
‘She hasn’t changed,’ Titch said, fully aware that Steve was drinking in every word. ‘She’s put weight on, but it suits her and she’s still as pretty as ever.’
Olive looked down at her flat chest and skinny arms. ‘Tell her I’ll have some of her fat – I could do with it, God knows.’
‘Why don’t yer tell her yerself? Good grief, if she passes yer door, why can’t yer just invite her in?’
‘Invite her in to this?’ Olive flung an arm wide. ‘No thanks, Titch. Leave me with what little pride I’ve got left.’
Titch raised an eyebrow. ‘I thought yer said yer knew Irene well?’
‘I do! Well, at least I did. We were the best of pals for years.’
‘Olive, if yer think Irene would worry about the state of yer house, then yer really don’t know her at all. At least not the Irene I know. She wouldn’t care if yer lived in a pigsty.’
‘She mightn’t, but I would, Titch. I don’t want anyone to see what I’ve come down to.’ Olive hung her head. ‘Irene did knock here a couple of times, but I pretended I wasn’t in. That was years ago, mind.’
‘I didn’t know that, Mam!’ Steve’s voice was high with surprise. ‘Why did yer never mention it to me?’
Olive sighed. ‘Because I didn’t want yer to know that yer mother was such a coward she hid behind the door when one of her friends knocked. I wasn’t very proud of meself, I can tell yer.’
‘Would yer still hide behind the door if she knocked?’ Titch asked.
‘I couldn’t face her, Titch, I’d be too ashamed. It’s not only the state of the house, it’s me as well. Just look at me! I haven’t got a decent stitch to put on me back. And me son, who I love more than words could ever say, has to walk around
like a tramp. He gets his clothes from a secondhand stall at the market, and they’re worn out when he gets them.’
‘I don’t mind that, Mam! I don’t care what people think, I’ve told yer. If I had a wish, it wouldn’t be for new clothes or a nice house, it would be that you get better.’
Titch sensed the emotion in the air and changed the subject. ‘Talking about Irene, did yer know she has a little job?’
‘Go ’way!’ This was news to Olive. ‘No, I didn’t know that.’
‘Yeah, she does two hours a morning at the corner pub. It’s a cleaning job and she’s made up with it. Apart from bringing in a few extra bob, she said it gets her out of the house.’
‘Well, I never! I didn’t think she’d need to go out to work with George’s wages coming in every week. That is a surprise.’
‘She’s got two growing lads to feed and clothe, so the money comes in useful.’ There was a reason behind Titch’s words. ‘Mind you, her eldest, Jack, leaves school next Friday so she may decide to pack the job in then.’
Olive narrowed her eyes in thought. Many of the things Titch said had hit home. But Irene taking a job to give her boys a better life had struck home the hardest. ‘Is it a heavy job she’s got?’
‘That I couldn’t tell yer. All I know is that she cleans at the pub. Why?’
‘D’yer think I could do it?’
Steve was about to say it would be too hard for her, but thought better of it. Mr McBride had got his mother talking more than she had done for years and he seemed to know what he was doing. So the boy leaned his elbows on the sideboard again and listened.
‘I don’t know about that, Olive.’ Titch was overjoyed and thanked God that Lucy had spurred him into this visit. ‘Besides, she hasn’t said yet that she’s leaving. I could ask her for yer, if yer like.’
‘She’ll think I’ve got a bloody cheek after not opening the door to her. I’m certain she knew I was in, and hiding.’
