by Joan Jonker
‘The women don’t know yet! And even if they did, what’s it got to do with them? They’re not going to keep yer!’
‘But when I start showing, they’d all be talking behind me back and I couldn’t bear it.’
‘Everyone is going to find out sooner or later, so yer better start getting used to the idea. Havin’ a baby isn’t something yer can keep a secret.’ Eileen let out a deep sigh. ‘Look, kid, I’m not going to say everything in the garden’s going to be rosy, ’cos it would only be a pack of lies an’ yer wouldn’t thank me for it in the end. Life is hard, an’ people can be cruel, so the sooner yer learn to stand up to it, the better. Whether yer like the idea of going back to work or not, yer really don’t have much option, do yer?’
Mary shivered, ‘I wouldn’t be able to hold me head up.’
‘OK; so don’t go back to work! Where will the money come from to live on? What about all the things yer’ll need for the baby? The only way to get money is to earn it, ’cos nobody’s goin’ to hand it to yer on a plate.’ Eileen screwed her eyes up as she squeezed Mary’s hand. ‘Look, kid! The people you’ve got to worry about are not the people in work, but yer mam and the baby. They’ll both be dependent on you, but without money yer won’t be able to help them.’
There was a long silence before Mary whispered, ‘I’m due at the doctor’s on Friday, but I could go Thursday instead and turn in to work on Friday.’
‘That’s my girl! Like I’ve said, kid, take life one day at a time.’
Eileen gave Mary’s hand one last pat before standing up. ‘I’ll get home and do some work before it’s time for us to go to the ’ossie.’ As she walked to the door her eyes travelled round the soot-streaked walls. ‘This room is enough to give anyone the bloody willies! Why don’t yer let me an’ Harry paper it for yer? We’re on afternoons next week and we could have it done in two mornings.’
‘I don’t want the room doing, Eileen! Forget it, will you, please!?’
‘OK! Don’t bite me head off!’
Eileen had only been gone five minutes when there was a rattle on the letter box, and Mary opened the door thinking her friend had forgotten something. ‘I’ve just met Eileen, and she told me about Bob.’ Elsie Smith was wringing her hands, her pinched face trying hard to look tragic. ‘I got an awful shock when she told me.’ Her eyes darted past the half open door, hoping Mary would take the hint and invite her in. When she didn’t, the whining voice continued. ‘You’re having more than your share of bad luck, aren’t you? And Bob’s poor mam and dad must be out of their minds! Losing their home, and now their only son!’
Mary felt hysterical. She wanted to slam the door and shut out the sight and sound of the woman who revelled in other people’s suffering. Bob’s death would keep her in gossip for the next few weeks, or until some other unfortunate person caught her evil eye. Eileen always said she would make a ‘bloody good professional mourner’, and she was right. Just being near Elsie Smith made your skin crawl.
‘Let’s know if there’s anything I can do.’ The voice brought Mary back to life. Aye, she thought … let you know, and it would be all over the neighbourhood within hours. ‘Thanks, Mrs Smith, but I’ll manage.’
‘Does your mam know about Bob?’
‘No! Not until the doctor says she’s fit enough to be told.’
Elsie’s eyes narrowed. ‘Funny you being so friendly with Eileen Gillmoss. She’s so tough and common, she doesn’t seem your type.’
Mary’s nostrils flared. ‘Eileen Gillmoss is a smashing woman, and she’s my best friend! At least she tells you to your face what she thinks about you; she doesn’t go behind your back!’ With that parting shot, Mary slammed the door leaving Elsie Smith standing with her mouth open.
When Mary walked into the cloakroom on Friday morning, all heads turned towards her. No one said a word, but the women conveyed their sympathy in the patting and squeezing of her arm as they walked past. Mary knew they’d been warned, and she was grateful to Eileen. It would only take one word to break down her fragile defences.
Even Harry kept out of her way until it was time for his routine check. And when Mary just nodded in reply when he asked if everything was all right, he rounded the machine to where Eileen stood. ‘How is she?’
‘Well she’s here, and that’s a start.’
‘Have you mentioned decorating the room yet?’
‘Bloody hell, Harry! That room’s coming between me and me sleep!’ Eileen’s eyes swivelled sideways. ‘Why haven’t yer got yerself a girlfriend? I’d have thought a man of your age would need a woman.’
‘Needing and wanting are two different things, Eileen!’
‘My God, the man’s going all poetic!’ Eileen grunted. ‘Hidden talents, eh?’
‘I can be very determined, too!’ Harry’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. ‘All I need is a little help from a friend.’
Eileen turned away. She should put him straight about Mary, but that would mean betraying a confidence. ‘Oh, go and find yerself a girlfriend! There must be plenty around.’
When Harry stood silent, his eyes questioning, Eileen sucked her breath in.
‘OK! But don’t ever say I didn’t warn yer.’
They were sitting in the canteen and eight pairs of eyes were watching, fascinated, as Eileen piled chips on to a full round of bread and then squashed them down with another round. Her fat hands gripped the enormous sandwich and lifted it to her mouth where her lips were parted in readiness to receive it.
‘My God!’ Maisie Phillips shook her head. ‘You couldn’t take her anywhere, could you? She’d make a holy show of you!’
Eileen gave her a disdainful look, and crooking her little finger into what she thought was an elegant pose, said haughtily. ‘Hi’ll have you know, my good woman, that Hi’ve heaten with the best!’
The women laughed goodnaturedly as they stood up. ‘Aye! The best down and outs in Liverpool!’
Left alone with Mary, Eileen rubbed a hand across her greasy chin. ‘How did it go at the doctor’s?’
‘He said to leave it for another week and see how me mam is.’ Mary gave a quick glance around. ‘I asked him about going into Oxford Street to have the baby.’
‘What a hope! Yer need a letter from Our Lord to get in there! They only take complicated cases in, unless yer live round there.’
‘He told me that, but I’d still like to try. He’s going to give me a letter next week, to take down. So I’ll keep me fingers crossed.’
‘Yer’ll need to keep more than yer fingers crossed, kid!’ Eileen held on to the table while she scraped her chair back, then she linked her arm through Mary’s and they made their way back to the shop floor. ‘Don’t bite me head off, kid, but I’ve been thinkin’. Don’t yer think it’s a bit selfish of yer to let yer mam come home to that filthy room?’
‘But me mam’s not coming home yet.’
‘How d’yer know? Once the ’ospital say they can’t do any more for her, she’ll be sent home. And fancy havin’ to lay all day looking at those bloody walls.’
Mary bit on her lip. ‘I wouldn’t mind you doing it, but I don’t like the thought of Harry Sedgemoor being in our house.’
‘I don’t know what yer’ve got against him! He’s a smashing bloke!’
‘I’ve got nothing against him,’ Mary insisted. ‘But how d’you think I’m going to feel when he knows I’m pregnant?’
‘You’re going to need friends, kid, and Harry could be a good friend.’ They were nearing their machine and Eileen turned to face Mary. ‘Shall I ask him to give me a hand with the room next week, then?’
The hesitation was brief. ‘Yes, please. I’ll start stripping the walls. And thanks, Eileen. I know I don’t sound grateful, but I am.’
Harry couldn’t sleep on the Sunday night. He tossed and turned, telling himself he was acting like a kid going to see a cowboy picture instead of a grown man going to decorate a room. He was meeting Eileen at Mary’s at nine, but by seven he couldn
’t stand it any longer and went downstairs to make himself a drink. When his mother came down at her usual time of seven thirty, her eyes full of sleep, she stared in surprise. ‘Couldn’t you sleep?’
‘I woke up early and couldn’t drop off again. So I came down and made meself a drink.’
‘Is there any left in the pot? I’ll have a quick cuppa before I make your dad’s breakfast.’ Over the rim of her cup, Lizzie noted her son’s restlessness and wondered if it had anything to do with Mary Bradshaw. ‘What time will you be home for dinner?’
Harry stood up to comb his hair in front of the mirror over the fireplace. ‘I won’t be coming home.’ Their eyes locked through the mirror. ‘Me and Eileen want to get as much done as we can, so we’re going to have a bite at Mary’s and go straight to work.’
He was putting the comb back in his pocket when the door opened and his dad came in. ‘What’s up with you two this morning?’ George Sedgemoor looked at his son. ‘I thought you were on afternoons?’
‘I am.’ Harry could feel his face redden. ‘I’m giving Eileen Gillmoss a hand to paper the Bradshaws’ living room, so it’ll be nice when Mrs B comes out of hospital.’
‘Aye, young Mary could do with a hand.’ George nudged his wife who was still sitting at the table. ‘Come on, Lizzie! I haven’t got all day.’
His dad had gone to work and his mam was tidying up when Harry came down with his overalls over his arm. ‘I’ll see you tonight, then, Mam.’
Lizzie nodded. She liked Mary, but if her son had any ideas in that direction he’d best be forgetting them. It would be a long time before Mary was ready to look at another man.
Mary was alone when Harry arrived, and although he’d rehearsed what he would talk about, when the time came he was tongue-tied. Mary didn’t help much, either! She handed him the bucket when he asked for it, then left him alone in the kitchen. He half filled the bucket with cold water and slowly stirred the contents of a bag of flour into it. He’d scrounged two bags of flour off the local baker and hoped it was enough to do the whole room. He was stirring the mixture with a piece of wood when he heard Eileen arrive, and as soon as she walked through the door the atmosphere changed and the house became alive. It wasn’t only the house that became alive, either, because Mary was like a different person as she greeted her friend. ‘And where d’you think you’ve been to, lazy bones?’
‘The flamin’ cheek of you! For your information, Miss Bradshaw, I’ve got three kids off to school, made the beds, dusted, and left the dinner ready for me mam.’ Eileen reverted to the posh accent she loved so much. ‘Hi haven’t been sitting on my harse, you know.’ She saw Harry lounging in the doorway and beamed. ‘I hope yer in the mood for work, Mr Sedgemoor.’ Without waiting for a reply, Eileen eyed the bare walls. ‘Yer’ve done a good job there, kid! Now, if yer get the scissors we’ll start trimmin’ the paper. It takes longer to trim the bloody paper than it does to put it up.’
Mary looked at the larger than life woman and asked herself, yet again, what she’d do without her. ‘I’ll make us a pot of tea.’
Harry wagged the piece of wood at Eileen. ‘If my labourer is late again I’m going to dock her pay.’
‘Oh, no!’ Eileen clutched her heart. ‘I’ve got a mother and three kids to support! Take pity on me, please, sir? It won’t happen again, I promise.’ She delved into her shopping bag. ‘While you two have been lazin’ around, I’ve been standing in a queue to get some pies to feed yer faces!’ She thrust the bag into Mary’s hand before slipping her coat off. When she saw Mary eyeing the three safety pins holding the hem up, she threw the coat over Mary’s shoulder. ‘Never mind laughin’! Just you put this Paris model on an ’anger.’ She waited till Mary was in the hall then bawled, ‘If you ’aven’t got an ’anger, throw it on the floor.’
‘Any chance of getting some paper trimmed?’ Harry asked. ‘It’ll be time to go to work before we start.’
Eileen picked up the scissors. ‘Hi’ll have a glass of champagne with me meal, please! Oh, and do make sure it’s a good year.’
Harry kept stirring the paste while the women trimmed, and when Mary had finished a roll he measured the wall and started to cut the paper to size. He was listening to Eileen telling Mary about one of her neighbours coming to complain about Billy playing football outside her house, and he grinned when Eileen said, ‘Miserable old cow!’
‘Give me a hand with the paper, Eileen, while Mary carries on trimming.’
Harry came through from the kitchen with a strip of pasted paper over his arm, and Eileen held the bottom of the paper while he climbed the ladder. Mary became more relaxed as they worked and talked to Harry as though it was an everyday thing for him to be in her house. His pleasure showed on his face, and Eileen, whose eyes didn’t miss a thing, wondered whether she’d done the right thing in letting him get so involved. She should have kept her big mouth shut!
At eleven o’clock they stopped for a break and sat on hard chairs in the middle of the room. One wall was finished, and Mary, her hands curled round her cup, said. ‘The room looks brighter already! The paper’s nice, Harry; you’ve got good taste. Just wait till me mam sees it, she’ll be thrilled.’
‘I think the ceiling’s going to spoil it.’ Harry cast a critical eye over the sooty ceiling, ‘I asked you to let me do it before we started putting the paper up.’
‘Oh, sod off, Harry!’ Eileen clicked her teeth. ‘Yer’ve harped on about that bloody ceiling since we started!’ She heaved herself up. ‘Yer’ll have to hang on a minute ’cos if I don’t go to the lavvy I’ll burst.’
Mary looked at Harry. ‘While you’re waiting for Eileen, I’ll pass you one of the strips up.’
Carefully folding the pasted strip, she carried it through to where Harry was standing on a middle rung of the ladder. He turned sideways to take the paper from her, and was so intent on keeping his balance he didn’t see Mary sway before she fell limply to the floor. He looked down in horror, half the paper in his hand, the other half wrapped round Mary’s body. He came down the ladder and carefully stepped over her. Beads of sweat ran down his face as he stared helplessly at her still form. He bent to lift her, then straightened up and ran to the kitchen door calling Eileen.
Eileen was holding a damp cloth to Mary’s forehead when she came round. Still dazed, she could remember nothing but the blackness and the feeling of falling into space. ‘Come on, kid, yer all right now.’ Mary opened her eyes at the sound of Eileen’s voice, but it was Harry she saw, standing at the end of the couch. She sat bolt upright, straightening her skirt over her knees. ‘I’m OK,’ she whispered. ‘I went giddy for a minute when I handed the paper up to Harry, but I’m all right now.’ She jumped up. ‘Come on, I’ve held the job up long enough.’
‘Stay where you are,’ Harry said sharply. ‘Me and Eileen can manage.’
‘No, I’m fine! I never could stand heights, that’s all.’ On legs that felt like jelly, Mary walked through to the kitchen and stayed there until it was one o’clock and time to have their dinner before going to work. Two of the walls were finished and Mary forced herself to look as pleased as Eileen and Harry when they gave one last look before walking out of the door.
The next morning Eileen was at Mary’s when Harry arrived and they started work right away. Mary felt terrible, and tried to hide the fact by being more talkative than usual. She made them a cup of tea at eleven and was rinsing their cups out afterwards when, without warning, she started to vomit. She turned the tap full on as her head bent over the sink, hoping to cover the sound. But Eileen heard, and when she saw the puzzled expression on Harry’s face she guessed the thoughts running through his head. ‘What’s wrong with Mary?’ Harry ran his fingers down the blades of the scissors to wipe the paste off. Then he looked deep into Eileen’s eyes. ‘What’s wrong?’
‘She’s probably not been eating properly, I suppose.’ Eileen turned from his questioning eyes. ‘I’ll get another piece of paper.’
‘You’d
have a job!’ Harry sounded bad tempered. ‘There’s none pasted!’
‘All right!’ Eileen stuck her tongue out. ‘Don’t get off yer bike! Get some pasted!’
Mary was opening the oven door when Harry asked. ‘OK, Mary?’
‘Fine!’ Oh God, I hope they didn’t hear, Mary prayed. ‘I’m just warming the pies up.’
‘We’re on the last three strips now, so we won’t be long.’
They were eating their pies and Eileen broke the heavy silence. ‘Yer’d think we were at a bloody wake! Just look at the gobs on you two!’
Harry forced a smile. ‘We don’t all lead exciting lives, like you.’
‘Pooh! Me lead an exciting life! Yer must be joking! The only excitement I get is when our Edna wets her knickers, or our Billy puts a ball through somebody’s window.’ Demolishing half the pie in one mouthful, Eileen looked at Mary. ‘Remember me goin’ into town a few weeks ago to get our Billy a new pair of kecks?’ She waited for Mary’s nod. ‘Well, I was walkin’ home the other day and there was me bold laddo lyin’ full stretch in the gutter. He had his hand down the grid pokin’ around in all the muck, an’ him with his best kecks on! Him and his mate had pulled the grid top off, an’ his mate was holding his legs while he fished around in all the muck! I was so flamin’ mad, I grabbed him by the scruff of the neck and dragged him home while he screamed blue murder! All I could hear was that his “bobby dazzler” had rolled down the grid an’ he wanted to get it ’cos he’d swapped three of his ollies for it. The racket he was kickin’ up, yer’d have thought he’d lost a pound.’
Harry’s white teeth gleamed as he roared with laughter. ‘I know how he felt! I had a “bobby dazzler” once, and it was me pride and joy! Many’s the scrap I had over that “bobby dazzler”.’
‘I bet your mam wasn’t daft enough to fish it out of the grid for yer, though, was she?’ When Harry’s mouth gaped, Eileen smirked. ‘That’s what yours truly did! I lay down in the gutter and put me hand in all that muck to get it out for him!’
