by Joan Jonker
Ada quickly told her all that had been said and ended by holding out the paper bag she was carrying. ‘He’s a good man, there’s no two ways about it. Just by chance I happened to mention I was goin’ into town to get some pyjamas for Tommy, an’ he said it was a coincidence because he had two old pair his wife was goin’ to throw out. He asked if they’d be any use to me an’, as yer can imagine, I jumped at them.’
It was Dolly’s turn to gape. ‘Blimey! I’ve never heard of a doctor givin’ anythin’ away before. Let’s have a quick dekko, see how the other half live.’
Ada handed the bag over. ‘See for yerself, nosy poke.’
The pyjamas were in a soft winceyette material, one pair maroon and cream stripes, the other dark blue and cream. ‘Well, if these are old I’ll eat me ruddy hat!’ Dolly fingered the material. ‘Look, there’s not a break in them.’
‘I can see that,’ Ada said. ‘I hopped in lucky there all right. Perhaps me luck’s goin’ to take a change for the better.’
‘Do us a favour, girl?’ Dolly asked, folding the pyjamas carefully before putting them back in the bag. ‘When yer take a clean pair in to Tommy, let me wash the dirty ones. I can just see the face on her next door if she saw them hanging on me wash line. Blimey, she’d be callin’ all the neighbours in to have a look-see.’
‘Dolly Mitchell, I do believe yer a snob!’
‘I would be if I ’ad anything to be a snob about.’ Dolly handed the bag over and the smile dropped from her face. ‘I’m goin’ to give yer a bit of advice, girl, but yer don’t have to take it if yer don’t want to. If I were in your shoes, I wouldn’t tell a soul about you an’ the kids having to be checked over. Yer know what folk are like. If they hear the word “contagious”, they’ll avoid yer like the plague. Those yer think of as friends won’t be so friendly, they’ll cross the street when they see yer coming. An’ don’t tell Polly and Joey what ails their dad, ’cos what they don’t know they can’t repeat.’
‘I’d already thought of that, Dolly.’ Ada gave a big sigh. ‘I wouldn’t care what they thought if it was only meself I had to worry about, but I wouldn’t like the kids to be upset.’ Again she sighed. ‘You wouldn’t cross the street to avoid me, would yer, Dolly?’
‘Would I heckerslike! You’re me mate, an’ I stick by me mates. I’m not the only one, either. There’s some good people in this street who think a lot of you an’ yer family. Yer’ll make it, girl, I promise.’
‘Please God,’ Ada said softly.
‘Aye, an’ Him as well. He’s yer best friend.’
Chapter Five
‘Can Polly come out for a game of ollies, Mrs Perkins?’ Steve Mitchell asked, his face flushed with embarrassment and his eyes on a crack in the flagstone he was standing on. He dug his hand in his pocket and produced a large marble patterned in blue and white. ‘I won this bobby dazzler off one of me mates an’ I thought Polly would like to have a go with it.’
Ada ran the back of her hand across her forehead and smiled at the boy from next door. Gosh, he was a big lad for his age; must be as tall as his dad and he wasn’t thirteen until next week. He would pass for sixteen if it weren’t for the short grey trousers he was wearing, which were far too small for him. ‘I won’t stop her goin’ out, Steve, but I don’t think she will. The kids in the street haven’t exactly been jumpin’ over themselves to play with her. Even her mate, Doreen, has been givin’ her a wide berth.’
‘They’re daft, all of them.’ Steve shuffled his feet. ‘Will yer ask her for us?’
‘Come in an’ ask her for yerself.’ Ada held the door wide. ‘She’s only playin’ Ludo with Joey.’
‘Hello, Steve.’ Polly looked up with surprise. ‘Have yer come on a message for yer mam?’
‘No, I came to show yer somethin’.’ His chest puffed with pride, Steve opened his hand to reveal the prized marble. ‘I won this off Mick Skelly an’ I thought yer’d like a game with me.’
Polly pursed her lips and whistled. ‘Ay, that’s a whopper! Look, Joey, isn’t that the biggest ollie yer’ve ever seen?’
Joey was really impressed. ‘Can I hold it, Steve?’
‘If yer mam will let yer, yer can come out and have a game with me an’ Polly. I’ll teach yer how to play.’
His pale face aglow, Joey scrambled from the chair. ‘I can go, can’t I, Mam?’ He saw the doubt on his mother’s face and pleaded. ‘Go on, Mam, say I can go.’
Ada wavered. ‘Are you goin’, Polly?’
Polly was torn. She didn’t want to disappoint her brother, but her pride was against giving the kids in the street the satisfaction of ignoring her. Their attitude had puzzled and saddened her at first, until she’d mentioned it to her Auntie Mary. The Irishwoman had told her to pay them no heed, and that it was their parents who were to blame for their ignorance. After that she just got angry and stayed clear of them. It was her friend Doreen who had hurt her most. She didn’t call for her for school any more, but once there she played with her as normal. Polly asked her the reason for this and was told Mrs Ashcroft had warned her daughter about playing with her in case she caught the disease. Polly was so mad she told her friend to take a running jump and stay away from her.
Joey tugged on her arm. ‘Come on, our Polly!’
She looked into the bright blue eyes and her heart melted. ‘As long as we play outside our front door.’
Ada watched from behind the curtains. Dolly had been right about finding out who her real friends were. But enough of the neighbours had rallied around to give her heart, and the rest she didn’t care about. They didn’t put the bread on the table or the pennies in the gas meter. But she worried about the children being upset. Particularly when it was unnecessary after Dr Rigby had given the three of them a clean bill of health.
Ada moved the net curtain aside to see more clearly. Steve and Polly were on their knees in the gutter, their thumbs flicking the marbles to try and knock their opponent out, while Joey stood looking on, waiting for his turn. Steve looked far too big to be kneeling in such an undignified position, but Ada reminded herself that although he might look grown-up he was still a boy at heart. She was about to turn away when she saw Sammy Whiteside, a lad from the top end of the street, saunter across the cobbles and approach Steve.
Ada’s eyes narrowed. If Sammy had come to cause trouble she’d be out like a shot to give him a piece of her mind. Not that she didn’t think Steve could handle himself ’cos she knew better, but she’d had enough and wasn’t about to stand by and see her children humiliated any more. However, to her relief the boy knelt down and she could see his lips move as a smile crossed his face. She couldn’t hear what was being said, but she heard his whoop of joy when Steve revealed his bobby dazzler. And whatever remark he made, it brought a smile to Polly’s face. As she climbed the stairs, Ada told herself that the neighbours would all come round in the end, it was just a matter of time. And if she was honest, she couldn’t really blame them. In their position she’d probably be acting the same way herself.
Ada hesitated at the top of the stairs and took a deep breath before entering the big bedroom. Every time she looked at the double bed she’d shared with Tommy for fourteen years, she felt like bursting into tears. She missed him so much, missed the comforting warmth of his body next to hers and his whispered ‘I love you’ before he went to sleep every night. He’d been gone three weeks now and it seemed like a lifetime. She hadn’t told the children yet, but the doctor at the hospital said even if he responded to treatment it would be a year, perhaps two, before he was cured and able to come home. It would break Polly’s heart if she knew it was going to be so long before she saw her dad again. They didn’t allow children in the isolation wards but his bed was near a window, and when he was a bit better, Ada was hoping to take the children down and at least they could see each other, even if it was through a pane of glass. Seeing them would do Tommy the world of good, he fretted about them so much.
Ada tucked the blanket under the mattre
ss and straightened the counterpane. The children weren’t her husband’s only worry. He kept asking how she was managing for money. She’d had to tell him she’d got another part-time job cleaning in a shop, otherwise he’d know she couldn’t possibly be managing on what she was earning. If only she could tell herself a lie and get away with it. The trouble was, she was the one with the nearly empty purse. When he went into hospital she’d picked up three pounds ten shillings from Tommy’s works, that was with his week in hand, and she had the two pounds she’d saved. But for the past three weeks she’d had to take twenty-seven shillings a week from the savings to add to her wages just to pay for the very bare necessities. She dreaded to think what would happen after next week when she only had her twelve and six a week to live on. The rent had to be paid come what may, or they’d be out on the street without a roof over their heads. She’d tried everywhere to get another job but without any luck.
Ada gripped the round brass knob on the bedhead and spoke to the empty room. ‘I don’t know what, but I’ve got to do something. It’ll be over my dead body that my children end up in the workhouse.’ She turned and left the room, and as she closed the door behind her she felt as though she was closing the door on her life.
‘Mam, it’s Steve’s birthday next Monday. Can I ’ave a penny to buy a card for him?’ Polly came into the room after putting Joey to bed. ‘He gave me one on my birthday, remember?’
‘I can’t spare a penny, love, I’m sorry.’
‘Ah, ay, Mam! I’d feel mean if I didn’t give him one!’
‘Polly, will yer shut up! I’ve told yer I haven’t got a penny to spare so don’t keep on about it.’ Ada closed her eyes and groaned inwardly. What was she shouting at the kid for? It wasn’t her fault they were in dire straits. She patted the arm of her chair and said, ‘Come an’ sit down, sunshine, I’ve got somethin’ to tell yer.’
Polly didn’t move. ‘Is it somethin’ bad about me dad?’
‘No, it’s nothing to do with yer dad.’ Ada patted the arm of the chair again. ‘Come on, love, yer’ve got to know. I can’t keep it to meself any longer or I’ll go out of me mind.’
Polly was at her side in a flash. ‘What is it, Mam? You’re not sick, are yer?’
Ada took hold of one of her daughter’s hands and gazed into her face. Fancy having to burden someone so young, it just didn’t seem right. But what was the alternative? ‘Polly, if I had a penny to spare I’d give it to yer willingly because yer a good girl an’ I love yer very much. But you see, I’ve got to make every farthing count ’cos there’s not enough money comin’ into the house. I’ve paid the rent for this week, but I’ll not be able to pay it next week unless a miracle happens. An’ miracles don’t happen very often, not around here, anyway.’
Polly gazed at her mother with eyes like saucers. ‘Yer mean yer won’t be able to pay the rent an’ we’ll get put out on the street, like the Gregory family did last year? With the furniture on the back of a cart an’ all the neighbours out gawping?’
‘I hope it won’t come to that.’ Oh dear God, Ada thought, I’m trying to put an old head on young shoulders. But she couldn’t alter what was a fact. Polly would know soon enough anyway, when there was no food on the table. ‘I’ve tried everywhere for a job, but there’s just none to be had. I don’t need as much as when your dad was home ’cos I used to give him his tram fare, an’ there was his carry-out. Another pound a week would see us eating from hand to mouth, but at least I could struggle through on that. The problem is, where do I get the pound from? I can’t pluck it out of the air. But I’ll keep on tryin’, sunshine. I promise I won’t just sit on me backside and do nothin’.’
‘Have you asked Auntie Mary if she can help? She gets around to more places than you, she might know of some cleaning jobs going.’
‘I can’t go cryin’ to the neighbours, Polly. They’ve all got enough troubles of their own.’ Ada patted her daughter’s hand. ‘I’m glad yer know now the way things stand. It means I’ve got someone to talk to an’ I don’t have to bottle things up inside.’
Polly was silent for a while, wondering whether to say what was on her mind. She might get told off, but if it helped then it would be worth a ticking off. ‘Mam, yer remember when Auntie Mary gave me a birthday party? Well, I didn’t think anythin’ of it at the time, but now I’m wondering if she knew me dad was sick ’cos when I was helping her wash the dishes, she said I was to tell her if I ever thought you needed any help.’
‘I wonder why she said that?’ Ada looked puzzled. ‘Yer weren’t gabbing yer mouth off to her, were yer?’
‘No I wasn’t, Mam, honest!’ Polly wasn’t going to tell tales on her brother; he was only a baby, he didn’t know he was letting the cat out of the bag. ‘She just came out with it for no reason at all. But she wasn’t being nosy, Mam, she was just being kind.’
‘I know she wasn’t being nosy, love, she’s too genuine a person for that. But I can’t burden her with my troubles, it wouldn’t be fair.’
‘I’ll help yer all I can, Mam, I promise.’ What Polly said wasn’t what she was thinking. If her mam wouldn’t approach Auntie Mary, then there was no harm in doing it herself. They were in trouble, her mam looked worried to death, so who better to ask for help than a friend?
Polly was playing hopscotch outside her front door, her eyes peeled for a familiar figure who was due to turn the corner any minute. As soon as she saw her, she ran across the street. ‘Can I carry yer basket for yer, Auntie Mary?’
‘Sure it isn’t heavy, me darlin’, it’s as empty as me head, so it is.’ Mary smiled as she reached up and brought the basket down from its perch. ‘But I’ll not refuse a kind offer.’
‘Can I try an’ balance it on me head, like you do?’
‘As long as yer keep yer hand on it.’ Mary set the basket on the top of the black curly hair. ‘Don’t let go ’cos there’s bits of wood stickin’ out an’ yer’ll do yerself an injury.’
It looked so easy when Mary did it, but Polly found that even with one hand keeping it steady, the basket had a mind of its own and slithered about in all directions. She wasn’t sorry when they reached the Irishwoman’s house. ‘Yer’ll have to get it down for me, Auntie Mary. It’s harder than it looks.’
‘It is that, me darlin’! Didn’t meself think I’d never get the hang of it at all, but like everythin’ else, it takes time.’ There was a wide, deep pocket in the thick black apron Mary wore around her waist to keep her money safe, and now she felt between the coins for the door key. ‘Are yer comin’ in, me darlin’? I wanted to have a word with yer an’ intended to call at yer house later, but sure it’ll save me the journey.’ She laughed as she opened the door. ‘Anyone would think yer lived miles away, instead of just across the street. If the truth was known, it’s meself that’s gettin’ lazy in me old age.’
There was doubt on Polly’s face as she gazed across the street at the front door she’d left ajar. ‘Shall I go an’ tell me mam where I am, in case she comes out lookin’ for me?’
‘It’ll not take but a few minutes, Polly, an’ then yer can tell yer mam what we’ve talked about an’ see what she thinks.’
Polly marvelled once again at the spick and span living room. Not a cushion or ornament out of place, not a newspaper or shoes littering the floor, and the black grate polished until you could see your face in it. Considering she was out every day from early in the morning, her Auntie Mary kept the place like a little palace.
‘Would yer mam be able to spare yer on a Saturday and Sunday if I could get yer a little job?’ Mary kept her eyes averted as she pulled the shawl from her shoulders and folded it neatly before setting it down on the gleaming sideboard. ‘It wouldn’t pay much, but it would be pocket money for yer right enough.’
Polly’s mouth dropped open. How did the Irishwoman know she’d been waiting for her just to ask that very question? Then Polly closed her mouth and mentally shook her head. She couldn’t possibly have known, it was just a coincide
nce. Swallowing hard, and her voice no more than a whisper, Polly said, ‘I’m sure me mam can spare me, but she doesn’t get in from work on a Saturday until a quarter past eight an’ I have to look out for Joey until then.’ With hope surging in her heart, her voice grew stronger. ‘I could come after that, though.’
‘Sure, that’ll be time enough, so it will.’ Mary now looked the girl full in the face. ‘Yer might not want the job when I tell yer what it is, but it’s yerself that has the privilege of saying yea or nay.’
‘Oh, I’ll take it!’ Polly tried in vain not to sound too eager but it came over in her voice. ‘What is it, Auntie Mary?’
‘Flower-selling.’ Mary studied the pretty face to see if it clouded over with disappointment, but no, the eyes remained alive with excitement. ‘There’s ten of us work together at the bottom of Bold Street and one of them is an old lady called Sarah Jane. She’s a lovely old lady, so she is, an’ we all try an’ help her as much as we can. She’s really gone past working, but the poor old soul hasn’t any family an’ she’s been working the same patch for donkey’s years so she’d miss all the hustle an’ bustle. Sure, if she had to give it up she’d fret so much she’d be dead in no time, an’ that’s the truth of it.’
‘But what would I have to do?’ Polly asked, her hopes fading. ‘I mean, if she’s not leavin’, what would I be wanted for?’
‘Well, Sarah Jane, God bless her, has trouble getting off her chair and bending down to pick the flowers out of the buckets.’ Mary waved her arms. ‘Sure, it’s yerself would have to see it to understand. The old lady has about ten buckets in front of her, all filled with different flowers an’ ferns. If a customer asks for a bunch of flowers from one of the buckets at the front, it’s altogether too much for the old soul to get up from her chair, shuffle to where the flowers are and bend down and pick out a bunch. Then it’s back she has to go to wrap them up. Because she’s so slow, her trade has dropped to rock bottom. Although we do our best to help her, the top and bottom of it is we can’t afford to lose custom ourselves. It’s every man for himself an’ the divil take the hindmost.’
