Then drawing me down on to the side of the bed she took my hand in hers and said quietly, "Tell me about it, lass."
With my eyes cast down and my head moving from side to side I muttered, "It was Don, he didn't want me to dance with anybody else. A boy called Ted Ted Farrel asked me and Don said if if I danced with him again he would ..."
"Go on," said my mother.
"He he would make him so's his mother wouldn't know him."
"What did Ronnie do?" asked my mother.
"Did he know of this?"
"He he ..." I found I couldn't say that Ronnie, too, had warned me not to dance with Ted Farrel. How could I explain to her the grip on my arm as we went stumbling round the room, and him whispering, "Now look, I'm tellin' you, our Christine. Don't you encourage Ted Farrel, for he's got a name. He's no good, and there'll only be trouble."
"Where did they fight?"
"I - I dont know, I think it was near the boiler house. I saw Ted go out with two pals and then Don said to our Ronnie, " Come on"."
"Where was Father Ellis in all this ?"
"In the whist. Somebody told him and he came out and stopped them, and Oh, Mam!" I fell on her neck, 'every body was looking at me, as if as if. "
"There, there. Look look at me."
When I raised my eyes she said, "Do you like Don, even a little bit?"
"No, Mam. No ... no!"
She drew in a deep breath, then exclaimed, "Thank God for that. I knew you didn't as a hairn, but girls change you know, and often in their teens they ... well, they ..."
"I could never like Don, I - I'm afraid of him, Mam."
Her eyes tightened on mine and she said sternly, "Don't be afraid of him, that's what he wants. Don is not a good boy, Christine. There's something, I dont know what it is, but there's something I can't fathom about him."
I knew what she meant, and when she said next, "You must keep out of his way as much as possible," I didn't reply but asked myself somewhat wildly how I could do that, living almost in the same house with him?
Sensing my feelings, my mother said, "I know, lass, it's going to be difficult." Then she added, "And we dont want any open rift if we can help it. Aunt Phyllis is a funny customer,
CHAPTER THREE
I remember the day I left Mrs. Turnbull's. It was a day in October, nineteen-thirty-eight, shortly after Hitler overran Czechoslovakia. I knew about this from Dad's talk, for I did not read the papers. He had been very concerned about this man called Hitler, but now, seemingly, the man had got what he wanted and everything would settle down.
Anyway they had stopped digging trenches in the London parks.
Mollie, on the other hand, took a great interest in the newspapers and gave me her verdict, day by day, on the headlines. I knew that she was disappointed there wasn't going to be a war. A war for Mollie meant excitement and all the lads in uniform.
She was talking, this particular morning, in whispers and with some regret about the latest news, saying, "Eeh! by, me ma had some fun in the last war. She keeps me in stitches sometimes with the things she did. And she had some chances an' all. She was a bloomin' fool not to snap one of 'ems up, sergeants and the like. And then she had to go and marry me da. That was a case of must. By, I've learned something'.
If there was another war no bloody tatie peelin' private would get me, I can tell you. I mayn't be a Greta Garbo but I've got me head screwed on the right way. By, I have. Me ma's taught me a lesson, and the squad she's got. "
"Wouldn't you marry a pitman?"
"Pitman? Not me. No bloody fear. Pitman!"
I looked at her out of the side of my eye and said with a little laugh,
"I thought you liked our Ronnie?"
She gave me a sly look back, dug me in the ribs and said, "Likin's one thing, marryin's another. If he won the pools now, I'd have him the morrer."
We both burst out laughing, then covered our laughter I know, and she would try the patience of a saint, but she's got a lot on her plate.
She's a very unhappy woman, so we dont want to make things worse for her. Just you keep him at arm's length, and whatever you do dont let him see you're afraid of him. "
We looked at each other in the flickering candle-light, then her hands came out and cupped my face, and as she stared at me her eyes grew very soft, and bending forward she kissed me on the mouth. This was a very unusual gesture. I kissed her every night before going to bed and also before going out in the morning, but it was on the side of her cheek, and when she kissed me it was on my cheek, but this was a special kind of kiss and in that moment I felt that I must always be good and never, never do anything that would hurt her.
CHAPTER THREE
I remember the day I left Mrs. Tumbull's. It was a day in October, nineteen-thirty-eight, shortly after Hitler overran Czechoslovakia. I knew about this from Dad's talk, for I did not read the papers. He had been very concerned about this man called Hitler, but now, seemingly, the man had got what he wanted and everything would settle down.
Anyway they had stopped digging trenches in the London parks.
Mollie, on the other hand, took a great interest in the newspapers and gave me her verdict, day by day, on the headlines. I knew that she was disappointed there wasn't going to be a war. A war for Mollie meant excitement and all the lads in uniform.
She was talking, this particular morning, in whispers and with some regret about the latest news, saying, "Eeh! by, me ma had some fun in the last war. She keeps me in stitches sometimes with the things she did. And she had some chances an' all. She was a bloomin' fool not to snap one of 'ems up, sergeants and the like. And then she had to go and marry me da. That was a case of must. By, I've learned something'.
If there was another war no bloody tatie peelin' private would get me, I can tell you. I mayn't be a Greta Garbo but I've got me head screwed on the right way. By, I have. Me ma's taught me a lesson, and the squad she's got. "
"Wouldn't you marry a pitman?"
"Pitman? Not me. No bloody fear. Pitman!"
I looked at her out of the side of my eye and said with a little laugh,
"I thought you liked our Ronnie?"
She gave me a sly look back, dug me in the ribs and said, "Likin's one thing, marryin's another. If he won the pools now, I'd have him the morrer."
We both burst out laughing, then covered our laughter hurriedly as we heard Mrs. Turnbull coming out of the other shop. I remember I turned from a shelf to look at her and my mouth fell into a gape, for behind her stood Dad. He came straight towards me, his cap moving nervously between his hands, and said, "I've been talking to Mrs. Tumbull' he nodded his head back at her 'you'll have to come home, lass, your mother's taken bad."
I said nothing, I did not even apologize to Mrs. Tumbull for my hasty exit, but, running out to the back, I grabbed up my coat and hat and joined Dad in the shop. And there, Mollie, before Mrs. Turnbull could speak, asked, "Will you becomin'back?"
It was my dad who answered.
"I dont think so, lass, not yet. Me wife's very ill, she'll be in bed for some time."
Mrs. Turnbull moved with us towards the door, where she said, "I'm very sorry, very sorry indeed, Mr. Winter." And turning to me she finished, "Your situation's waiting for you when you can come back, I'll see to that."
"Thank you," I said, and hurried into the street. And there gabbled my questions at Dad: What was the matter? When did it happen? How did it happen? What was it? She was all right when I left this morning.
Apparently my Aunt Phyllis had sent someone to the allotment for him, and when he got back he found my mother in bed she had knocked on the wall for Aunt Phyllis. Aunt Phyllis had already sent for the doctor.
"But what's wrong?" I asked.
Dad moved his head quickly in a shaking movement as if trying to throw something off, then exclaimed, "It's her stomach, there's something wrong with her stomach."
I ran before him up the hill, and burst into the front room, to be greeted by Aunt Phyllis
with the command, "Be quiet! control yourself."
When I stood by the bedside looking down at my mother, she seemed so much older that it could have been ten years since I last saw her instead of three hours. She did not speak but patted my hand twice; then my Aunt Phyllis moved me out of the room and followed me through to the kitchen, and there she said, "Now you'll have to get your hand in. And not before time an' all. She'll have to be looked after. She should go to a hospital. But then she always thought she knew best.
Now come along and get your things off and finish this washing.
She was in the middle of it and it's a heavy one. "
As if in a dream, I took off my hat and coat and put on an apron. When I look back it seems I never took that apron off.
After two weeks in bed my mother seemed brighter and talked of getting up, but she did not get up, not for many weeks. Every night before I went to bed she would pat me on the hand and say, "The morrow I must put my best foot forward, I can't lie here for ever."
But in the morning she was always very tired again.
Dad hardly ever left the house except to sign on and go to the allotment, and he would help me with the work, but was no good with the cooking, though he would offer advice, saying, "Your ma did it like this." Yet no matter how hard I tried to follow the way Mam did it I always seemed to use twice as much stuff, and the result would be nowhere near as nice as when she had made it.
The money did not go so far either, and this was worrying us all.
Although my money was not coming in. Dad could get no more from the unemployment exchange because Ronnie was still working; and then, too, we not only missed my mother's few shillings, but all the odds and ends she brought down from Mrs. Dun-ant's.
Every day Aunt Phyllis came in and washed my mother and made her bed, and sometimes my mother would say, "Oh, Phyllis, you shouldn't trouble, I can manage on my own." But she never told her not to come.
And, moreover, every day my Aunt Phyllis told me in some way how badly I was managing.
One day when she was passing through the kitchen as I was dishing up the dinner she cast her eyes down on the cabbage which was a bit watery, and said, "If you give that a shove it'll float away."
To her astonishment, and to mine also, our Ronnie, who was standing by the hearth, turned on her, exclaiming, "Leave her alone. Aunt Phyllis, she's not me mam and she's doing her best."
Aunt Phyllis, in the act of walking away, stopped in her tracks, turned slightly and looked at Ronnie, and such vas the expression in her eyes that Ronnie's head dropped before it
7i
and he turned gauchely towards the fire again, while Aunt Phyllis muttered something under her breath which I could not catch. But what she made sure I did catch was her parting shot, for at the kitchen door she turned on me almost in a white fury and exclaimed, "By!
you'll have something to answer for. "
As the outer door banged I turned to Ronnie, the pan still in my hand.
"What in the name of goodness have I done now?" I asked.
"All because the cabbage is a bit watery. Oh, I'll squeeze it again."
I was flouncing back into the scullery when he caught my arm and said soothingly, "Take no notice of her. The cabbage is all right. That woman's mad, she should be locked up. There'll be trouble with her one day, you'll see."
Don and Sam came in every day to inquire after my mother, yet Don never went through to the front room, he always stayed in the kitchen.
But he never managed to get me alone, nor did he manage to meet me outside, for whatever shift he was on I arranged to go for the shopping when I knew he would be at the pit.
Sam would sit by my mother's bedside as long as he was allowed, until she would say, "Well, Sam, you'd better be trot- tin'," or until he heard Aunt Phyllis yell, "Sam! You Sam!" Often he would say to me,
"Can't I do anything for you, Christine, get coal in or anything?" And nearly always my answer was, "No, Sam, thanks; Dad's got it."
The doctor's visits were spaced more widely apart now, which made Dad angry and he exclaimed one day, "He'd be on the bloody doorstep if he could get his seven and a tanner each time. He'll get his bill." And then he ended, "My God! it makes you wish there was a bloody war, for then there'd be no shortage of money. They'd be crying out for us then."
The week before Christmas my mother came into the kitchen and it was a time of rejoicing. I felt so happy that I seemed to do everything right; even the pastry I made turned out light and fluffy, and this caused the first real laugh there had been in the house for months.
The world seemed to be right again. Dad put up the chains, Mrs.
Durrant sent mother a big parcel of food, and Mollie came to see me and told me that she had left the shop for she couldn't stand it with out me.
I had been surprised to see Mollie at the door, and I had invited her in after whispering to her, "Don't swear, will you?" and she hadn't sworn for half an hour. I saw that my mother liked her. Then Stinker came in and, wanting to be friendly, put his paws on her leg and tore her stocking. At this she exclaimed in dismay, "Oh, you bugger! And me best pair." Then giving a laugh she ended, "That's another bloody one an' eleven gone down the drain cost price, too." She gave me a push.
I glanced at my mother and saw that her face was surprised and straight, but Ronnie and Dad were almost convulsed.
Mollie soon took her departure, and Mam asked me, immediately the door had closed on her, "Does she usually swear?"
"No, Mam," I lied. I knew that my mother did not believe me.
Christmas over, Mam's energy seemed to flag again, and one day I found her crying and she said, "Go down to Father Howard and ask him if he will kindly say a mass for me." Then she drew her purse to her and, counting out five shillings in sixpences and coppers, added, "You'd better take this with you. Offer it to him, but he may not take it."
Her request sounded so ominous that I hurriedly put on my hat and coat and went out. There was a cold wind blowing but the coldness of my hands, feet and face could not in any way compare with the coldness I was feeling round my heart. My mother was very ill; she was getting up, but this did not hide the fact that she was very ill.
Even in the biting wind there were men lining each side of the bridge and they called out to me and asked how she was.
The nine o'clock mass was just finishing and I saw Father Howard in the vestry. I made my request and offered him the five shillings, which he took quite casually and laid it on a shelf as if it were of no account.
When I returned home, Mam said, "Well?" She did not ask if he was going to say the mass for her but ended, "Did he take it?" I nodded silently and she said somewhat bitterly, "My God!"
From this time on I started to go to mass every morning, even when there might be a chance of Don waylaying me. I went to Our Lady's altar after each service and begged her to
spare my mother. And she answered my prayers, for in the months that followed my mother gradually regained her strength and, though she could not lift anything heavy or do housework, she resumed the cooking and became something of her former self. Then it was my birthday, 26th April. For my birthday present my mother had made me a coat. She had unpicked and turned a coat that Mrs.
Durrant had sent down and had passed the hours, when she had to keep her feet up, by sewing the whole of it by hand. It was a beautiful coat, tight at the waist and full in the skirt, and I could not wait to get it on. Our Ronnie bought me a scarf, and Sam, who never had any money except for the odd copper my mother slipped him, carved my name with a penknife on a round piece of oak, with holes pierced in it so that it could be hung up like a picture. I was delighted with his present, and my pleasure pleased him greatly I could see. Don bought me nothing, and that also pleased me, for I did not want to have to thank him for any thing, although during the last few months he had said nothing to me that anyone eke could not have heard. Aunt Phyllis, Don and Sam were invited to tea. My Aunt Phyllis refused on some pretext or
other, but Don and Sam came, and as we all stood in the kitchen looking at the lovely spread my mother had managed to make, Don moved to where his mack was lying on the head of the couch and from under it he brought a parcel, and, coming to me, put it into my hands, saying "Here's your birthday present."
I tried to smile and mumbled some words of thanks. And then he said,
"Well, aren't you going to open it?"
My mother had not spoken, but she took the scissors from where they hung on a nail at the side of the mantelpiece and handed them to me. I cut the string and opened the parcel to reveal a green leather case.
It was in the shape of an oblong box, and when I lifted the lid my eyes popped in amazement. It was a dressing-case, complete with bottles and jars, and the inside of the lid was fitted with glass to form a mirror.
There was even a little case which held a manicure set.
I raised my eyes from the gift and looked at him and said, "Thanks, but1 can't take it."
He turned away and sat down at the table, saying, "Don't be silly."
My mother and Dad were standing one on each side of me now looking down into the box, and my mother said clearly, "This must have cost a pretty penny, Don."
"Aye, I'm not saying it didn't. Nobody's arguin' about it. Are we going to start eating. Aunt Annie?"
"Christine's not used to gifts like these...." My mother stopped and everybody moved uneasily. Embarrassment filled the room.
We all came under it except Don who, swinging round in his chair, faced my mother, saying, "Look, Aunt Annie, I didn't steal the money, I worked for it. I've got a job on the side. She needn't be ashamed to take it."
"What's this job you've got on the side, Don?" asked Dad quietly, as he took his seat at the table and motioned us all to be seated.
"Selling things. Uncle Bill," said Don.
"I do odd things for Remmy, the second-hand dealer, you know, I sell things for him."
Fenwick Houses Page 8
