Stay as Sweet as You Are

by Joan Jonker

  ‘No, I’ll manage fine. Look, I can carry it in front of me using both hands. I’ll go down this entry, cross over at the main road, then go up your entry. There’s never many people around on a Sunday morning, so I can’t see meself bumping into anyone I know.’ She glanced up at the back bedroom window where the curtains were still drawn over. ‘Yer’ll get a cup of tea when Titch decides to get out of bed. It was all hours when he came in and he’s probably got a hangover.’

  Steve grinned. ‘Had a drop to drink, did he?’

  ‘A drop, did yer say? I bet every pub in Liverpool has been drunk dry. Once he gets out with his mates he forgets to stop. His excuse, and he always has an excuse, will be that each one has to buy a round and his turn didn’t come up till last, as per usual. And there was no way he could leave without paying his way, ’cos he’d never hear the end of it.’

  ‘How many mates was he out with?’

  ‘From the state he was in, I’d say about fifteen.’ Aggie’s face softened into a smile. ‘He couldn’t get the key in the door and I could hear him fumbling and cursing. Then when he finally got in, he walked into the bottom stair and fell face forwards. I did think of lighting the candle at the side of me bed and going out on the landing with it, so he could see where he was going. Then I thought, To hell with it, he’s a big boy now. He got himself in that state, let him get himself out of it.’

  ‘How did he get up the stairs in the end?’

  Aggie gave another quick glance at the bedroom window. ‘A secret?’

  ‘Yeah, a secret. I promise.’

  ‘On his bleedin’ hands and knees, the silly bugger. And when I looked in on him this morning, he was lying on top of the bed in the clothes he’d gone out in. But don’t yer say I told yer or he’ll be embarrassed. And I don’t mind, really, ’cos he spends more of his life on the sea than he does on dry land. So the way I look at it, he’s entitled to go off the rails once in a while.’

  ‘I agree with yer, Mrs Aggie. I know he’s a good son, and I know he thinks the world of yer because he told me.’

  ‘The feeling is mutual, lad. I love the bones of him.’ Aggie patted Steve’s cheek. ‘I’d better get moving ’cos even with a hangover, me dear son will expect his Sunday roast dinner on the table. So I’ll see yer later.’

  Aggie hurried down the entry, her eyes looking straight ahead. If she did meet someone she’d have to make some sort of excuse. She couldn’t say she was going to the corner shop, not when her basket was already full. She was lucky, though. She made it to the Fletchers’ yard door without bumping into a soul. But she didn’t open the door straight away, she stood for a while to compose herself. It wasn’t often she got the collywobbles, but she had them now. What sort of reception was she going to get? ‘There’s only one way to find out, yer silly cow,’ she muttered under her breath, ‘and that’s get in there.’

  Olive had been watching through the back window, and when Aggie walked up the yard it was to find the kitchen door open and Olive waiting for her. ‘Hello, Aggie.’

  ‘Hello, girl.’ Aggie put the basket down and held out her arms. ‘Come and give an old woman a kiss.’

  Safe in the warmth and comfort of Aggie’s arms, Olive said, ‘Titch told me about this old woman yer keep talking about. Is it anyone I know?’

  Aggie chuckled. ‘I only bring her into play when I’m looking for sympathy. Otherwise, I’m like a spring chicken.’

  Olive bent and picked up the basket. ‘Come on through, but be warned, it’s no palace.’

  ‘Oh, I thought it was, that’s why I put me false teeth in.’ Aggie gazed around the bare room and nodded. ‘Ye’re right, girl, it’s no palace. But then, who the bleedin’ hell wants to live in a palace? With all those servants around, yer’d never be able to soak yer feet in a bucket of nice warm water or have the tin bath out in front of the fire.’

  Olive’s smile turned into a full laugh. ‘Oh Aggie, yer haven’t changed a bit.’

  ‘Only got older, girl, and perhaps a little wiser. But you’ve changed. Look at yer, there’s not a pick on yer.’

  ‘Life hasn’t been kind to me, Aggie. It made me older, but not wiser.’

  ‘Aye, well, ye’re back in the fold now, one of us again. And I’m not having anyone in my gang who’s as thin as a lath.’ Aggie told herself she’d gone far enough for now. One step at a time was the right way in this situation. ‘Anyway, I’ve brought the clothes for Steve. There’s another pair of trousers to come, I didn’t have time to turn them up last night.’

  ‘That’s all I could get out of him last night, he was full of it. He described everything in detail, the trousers, shirts, pullovers, socks, and even a pair of shoes.’

  ‘Have a look at them for yerself, girl. They’re not new, mind, but they’re in good nick. Steve should get plenty of wear out of them.’

  Olive put the basket on the couch and sat down beside it. When she took the cover off and saw everything all neatly ironed and folded, she shook her head as though she didn’t believe what she was seeing. ‘No wonder he was excited. These clothes look as though they’ve just been bought.’

  ‘Some of them are years old,’ Aggie said. ‘Titch isn’t home very often, as yer know, so he didn’t get to wear them all that much and it seemed a shame to leave them lying there when they could be put to good use. And I don’t know anybody better to get them to than your son. He’s a fine lad, Olive, and I bet ye’re proud of him.’

  ‘I have a son in a million, Aggie, and I’m more than proud of him. Nobody will ever know the life that lad’s had since his dad died.’ She put her hand on top of the clothes. ‘He deserves to wear clothes like this, and I’ll never be able to thank yer enough. One day, please God, I’ll be able to pay yer back in some way.’

  ‘Yer’ve nothing to pay me back for – that clobber belongs to Titch.’ Aggie gave her cheeky grin. ‘Still, seeing as he’s away all the time, yer can pay me back by letting me be a friend to Steve. I’ve really taken to the lad, and I’d be over the moon if he called in now and again for a natter. Yer see, it gets lonely when Titch is away.’

  ‘Yer’ve no worries on that score, Aggie, because I think ye’re stuck with Steve whether yer like it or not. He thinks you and Titch are the funniest things on two legs. I must have heard every word yer’ve spoken in his presence. The tricks Titch plays on yer, and the jokes and wisecracks that fly between yer. I was a bit jealous that I wasn’t a fly on yer wall and could have heard it all first hand. Olive stood up and placed the folded clothes carefully on the broken-down sideboard. Then she put the basket on the floor and sat on the couch with her legs curled under her. ‘I’m glad he’s making friends, Aggie, he needs them. It’s not healthy for a young lad to have no other company than a sick mother.’

  Aggie was beginning to see what Irene had seen. Olive could only keep up the pretence of normality for so long, then she flagged. ‘What sickness have yer got, Olive? What does the doctor say it is?’

  ‘Oh, I haven’t seen no doctor, we can’t afford it. Anyway, he’d only tell me what I already know. Years of money worries have worn me down and the lack of good food hasn’t helped. And living in this hovel would break anyone’s spirit. I just haven’t the strength or the will to do anything about it.’

  Aggie’s sympathy was mixed with impatience. ‘Olive, years ago, before yer got in this mess, all yer had to do was walk down the road and knock on my door, the Pollards’ or the Mellors’. We could have helped yer out. I would have minded Steve for yer while yer got yerself a job – yer should have thought of that. But all that’s by the wayside now. It’s the future yer should be looking to.’

  ‘Get off me backside, yer mean, Aggie? I can’t, I haven’t got the strength. An hour after I get out of bed, I’m lying on this couch, drained.’

  Aggie closed her eyes and sighed as she tried to think of the right words. ‘Olive, would yer listen to the thoughts of an old woman?’

  Olive smiled. ‘Yer told me before yer were only an old w
oman when yer were after sympathy. So what’s on yer mind?’

  ‘There’s a few things on me mind, but the main two are you and Steve. At his age he deserves some pleasure and happiness. But he can’t have either because he’s always worrying about you. So for his sake, if not yer own, yer should make a valiant effort to change things. Also on me mind, are the friends who want to help yer. None of them are well-off, so they can’t wave a magic wand and change yer life overnight. But they can help in little ways and they’d get a kick out of doing it. And before yer tell me ye’re too proud to accept our help, I’ll ask yer to think of that lovely son of yours.’

  Olive’s eyes were guarded. ‘What sort of help are yer talking about? I’ll accept the clothes and be more than grateful. But I’d never accept money.’

  Aggie huffed. ‘Yer’d not be getting offered money, girl! What the bleedin’ hell d’yer think I am? A ruddy moneylender?’

  In spite of herself, Olive laughed. And memories of the old days came flooding back. Life had been good then, with so many friends and lots of good times. And she remembered in particular how Irene and Aggie had always made her laugh. You could never be downhearted when they were around, they wouldn’t let you. ‘I’ll accept anything within reason, Aggie, except money or blows.’

  Aggie rolled her eyes to the ceiling. ‘At last, a glimmer of light at the end of the tunnel. I’ve never suffered with nerves in me life, girl, but right now yer’ve got me a bleedin’ nervous wreck. Anyway, see what yer think of me first offer of help. And keep yer gob shut until I’ve had me say.’ She laced her fingers across her tummy and licked her lips before starting. ‘I’m making a roast dinner when I get home, and ’cos Steve’s there, I was going to make enough for him. That’s if Titch ever gets out of bed, like, ’cos he came in at two this morning, blind drunk. If he doesn’t get up, that’s his look-out. Me and Steve will share his dinner between us.’ A lock of hair fell down to cover her eyes and she brushed it aside, only for it to fall again. ‘Blasted nuisance. I’ve gone off the bleedin’ track now. The way I’m going on, no one will be getting anything to eat. So I’ll just rush things along, Olive, and ask would yer like some of me roast dinner? And I’ll have yer know I’m noted far and wide for me crispy roast potatoes. A proper treat, they are.’

  Olive asked, tongue in cheek, ‘Oh, how far and wide are they known, Aggie?’

  ‘From me front door to me back door, girl.’

  ‘In that case, I can’t refuse, can I? Not when they come with a recommendation like that. So, yes, please, Aggie. And thank you.’

  Aggie jerked her head backwards. ‘Blimey, anyone would think I was offering yer a dose of arsenic! If it wasn’t for me false teeth falling out I’d shout for joy.’

  ‘Aggie, you do me more good than any dinner.’

  ‘That’s as maybe, girl, but ye’re still getting a dinner.’ Aggie got to her feet and reached for the basket. ‘I’ll take this and Steve can bring it back with enough to eat for both of yer. Seeing as it’s a celebration, like, I’ll let him have an hour off so he can eat with yer. And I’ll tell him to watch yer like a hawk, and report back to me if yer don’t eat every scrap.’

  ‘I’ll do me best, I promise. And it’s been lovely to see yer again, Aggie, I’m really glad yer came.’ Olive lowered her eyes. ‘I’ve been stupid, haven’t I? Like yer said, I should have knocked on yer door years ago, before all the things I held dear went to the pawnshop.’

  ‘It’s no good fretting about what might have been, queen, ’cos yer can’t turn the clock back. But that clock is still ticking away, taking yer into the future. And yer can do something about that. For you and Steve.’

  ‘How was me mam?’ Steve asked before Aggie had time to get through the entry door. ‘Was she all right with yer?’

  Aggie tilted her head. ‘Yer don’t see any black eyes, do yer? She was fine, lad, and as happy to see me as I was her. But she’ll tell yer all about it when ye’re having yer dinner. Me meat should be done by now, so I’ll get the carrots and turnips on the go, and the potatoes. It’ll be about an hour, then I’ll fill two plates and yer can take them home and eat with yer mam, eh? How does that sound?’

  Steve was already thinking of Aggie as his guardian angel, now he could almost see a halo hovering over her head. ‘I don’t know what to say, Mrs Aggie, except ye’re a little love and a really good woman. I know me mam’s going to get better now, with you and Mrs Pollard helping her. Oh, and I mustn’t forget Mr Titch, he’s been brilliant.’

  Aggie’s face did contortions. ‘Has that son of mine seen light of day yet?’

  Steve tried to keep a straight face but wasn’t successful. ‘Yeah, he came down about half an hour ago and made me a cup of tea.’ He gave a throaty chuckle. ‘I think he was putting it on for my benefit, but he was staggering all over the place. I would have believed he was still drunk except he didn’t spill a drop of tea.’

  ‘Never take my son at face value, lad, or yer’ll come a cropper. He’s the best bleedin’ actor I’ve ever seen. The number of times I’ve fallen for his tricks, I must want me brains testing. I get me own back now and again, like, but I’ve got a sneaking suspicion it’s because he lets me.’ She winked broadly before making her way up the yard. ‘I bet he’s got a good yarn to tell me about last night, and I bet there won’t be a word of truth in it. Still, I wouldn’t have him any different.’ She stepped into the kitchen then popped her head back out. ‘Give me an hour, lad, that’s all.’

  Titch heard her open the kitchen door and quickly folded the News of the World and threw it on the couch. Then he slid forward in his chair, his legs spread out and his head in his hands. He peeped through his fingers, and it was with great difficulty he kept his face straight when his mother appeared in the doorway, shaking her head and tutting. Oh, how he loved to pull her leg, particularly as he knew she enjoyed it as much as him.

  ‘In the name of God, will yer look at the state of him?’ Aggie could see the quick rise and fall of his stomach, telling her he was laughing inside. ‘If yer picked him up in the dark yer’d bloody soon drop him as soon as it was daylight.’

  His voice halfway between a moan and a groan, Titch said, ‘Me head is splitting and I feel sick. I won’t be able to eat no dinner Ma, I’d only bring it all back.’

  ‘That’s all right, son, not to worry. It’ll save me doing any extra.’ She deliberately turned around slowly and made her way to the sink. Her hand went to the tap, but before she turned it on, she said, ‘Olive can have your dinner.’ The running water covered any reply her son might have made, but as she knew it would, her remark brought him to the door.

  ‘Yer did it then, Ma?’ Looking as sober as a judge, Titch came to lean against the sink. ‘Yer got in to see Olive?’

  ‘Did yer ever have any doubts that I wouldn’t?’ Aggie looked down her nose as her eyebrows were raised in a haughty expression. ‘Yer haven’t got much faith in yer old mother, have yer?’

  ‘I’ve got so much faith in yer, Ma, I’ve already parboiled enough potatoes for four people. And if yer eyesight wasn’t failing because of yer age, like, yer’d see there’s a pan of carrots and turnips boiling away happily on the stove.’

  Mother and son gazed at each other, and the love that flowed between them needed no words. Aggie felt like throwing her arms around him, but knew that when she got sentimental it brought on the tears. And the last thing she wanted was for him to see her crying. He’d be legging it back to his ship before his leave was over if she bawled every time she looked at him. ‘Ye’re too quick for yer own good, you are. One of these days yer’ll meet yerself coming back.’ She placed a stiffened finger on her chin and put on a thoughtful expression. ‘Mind you, if yer did meet yerself coming back, yer could ask yerself if yer’d had a good time. And if yer hadn’t, then yer needn’t bother going.’

  Titch chuckled. ‘Ay, Ma, I had quite a few pints last night. I’d need a clear head to sort that one out. But it sounds good, so it’s one up to you today.
That’s until I’m sober, then I’ll see if I can beat it. Anyway, how did yer get on with Olive?’

  ‘Just hang on until I get me meat out of the oven, then I can put the potatoes in while the fat’s hot.’ Aggie took a towel from the kitchen door and was about to open the oven when her son took the towel from her.

  ‘Stand back, Ma, let me do it.’ He bent down and took out the roasting tin, sniffing up as he did so. ‘That smells delicious. I see we’re doing ourselves proud today with a leg of lamb.’

  ‘That’s because you’re home, son. If I was on me own it would be a mutton chop.’ Aggie pointed to the stack of plates on the shelf. ‘Pass one down for us, there’s a good lad.’ While Titch held the plate, she speared the leg of lamb with a fork and transferred it over. ‘Done to a turn, that is. Just the way I like it. A slice of that with a spot of mint sauce and I’ll think I’m in heaven. Now you go and sit down while I set everything in motion. Then I’ll make us a cuppa and tell yer how I got on.’

  Ten minutes later they were sat facing each other either side of the hearth. Titch with his big cup, which Aggie always said was big enough to have a bath in, and her with a dainty china one. In her opinion, tea tasted better out of a china cup. And it was the one luxury she wouldn’t do without. She only ever possessed one, and if it got broken she’d hot-foot it down to TJ’s to root through their basket of seconds until she found one which was perfect except for a flaw in the pattern. ‘I’m glad I’ve seen Olive for meself. Now I can understand what Irene was saying. It’ll take more than a few hot dinners to get her back on her feet again. She made me very welcome, and was fine at first, but it didn’t last long. She admitted that after she’d been out of bed an hour, she was whacked.’ Aggie shook her head sadly. ‘It’s no wonder she’s lost all her spirit – it would bring anyone down. To think of all those lovely ornaments and pictures she had, all gone to the pawnshop. And she wouldn’t get much off them, yer know what pawnbrokers are like. They know the poor buggers wouldn’t be there unless they were desperate, and they give yer next to bleedin’ nothing for things. They probably paid Olive out in coppers for all those possessions that held her memories. And what gets me mad is, the sods know there’s not much chance of people redeeming the things they put in, so yer’d think they’d give a fair price.’