The Harbour Girl

by Val Wood

  ‘What d’ya mean?’

  ‘Nowt.’ Billy stopped at Harry’s gateway. ‘Here.’ He thrust the cart towards Harry. ‘You tek it in.’ He turned about and walked away.

  ‘See you in ’Wassand then?’ Harry called after him.

  Billy lifted a hand but didn’t answer.

  Jeannie was sitting by a low fire feeding Jack when Harry opened the door. She looked up and a smile lit her face.

  ‘Harry. Oh, Harry! I didn’t expect you. What time did you dock?’ She slipped her shawl over her breast and lifted her face for a kiss.

  ‘You don’t have to cover yourself in front o’ me, do you?’ he said brusquely, bending to drop a kiss on her forehead.

  ‘Habit,’ she said. ‘In case the door opens.’

  ‘Why? Who else comes in?’ He took off his coat and hung it on the back of his chair before sitting down.

  Jeannie gazed at him. Then, lifting Jack to her shoulder, she gently patted his back. ‘Nobody,’ she said. ‘I don’t see anybody from Connie going out to her coming home, unless I go out on the road; and if the weather’s bad I don’t go out. But it’s getting better,’ she said, trying hard to be cheerful. ‘The weather, I mean. I think spring is on its way. Cup of tea?’

  He nodded. ‘Not a good fire. It’s freezing in here.’

  ‘There’s not much coal left,’ she said. ‘You’ve come home just in time.’

  ‘Run out o’ money already?’ He sat down opposite her and she felt as if she was entertaining a stranger. ‘What ’you spent it on?’

  Jeannie licked her lips; then she rose from the chair and put Jack in his makeshift crib. ‘Food and coal,’ she said. ‘And the rent, of course. No luxuries.’

  ‘I’ve got summat for you outside.’

  ‘Have you?’ she said eagerly. ‘A present? Fish, I bet. I’ll make a fish pie for supper.’

  ‘Not fish. An’ I’m sick o’ sight o’ fish. Haven’t you got some beef?’

  She shook her head. ‘No, but I’ll go and get some – if you’ve got your wages.’

  He heaved a sigh. ‘Aye, but we’re a bit short. ’Skipper decided to try ’Moray Firth, but he set up within ’three-mile limit and we were sent off wi’ our tails between our legs wi’ Scottish fishermen after us. That lost us time and no fish, so then we sailed for Norway.’

  Jeannie was animated. This was the first time he had ever discussed any of his trips. ‘And was the fishing good there? Lots of halibut, I should think.’

  ‘Aye, but then we snagged our nets and lost half of ’catch.’ He stood up. ‘I’ll just get this cart from ’front door,’ he said.

  Cart? She’d put to the back of her mind Mrs Norman’s promise that Billy would make one for her and she gave a small gasp as Harry brought it in.

  ‘Oh, it’s just what I want! Harry, I’ve something to tell you.’

  ‘I haven’t finished,’ he said bluntly. ‘An’ then we had trouble wi’ boiler and were stuck for three days wi’out power an’ Norwegian Sea was packed wi’ British trawlers so ’skipper decided to come home. That’s why we’re short. So what’s all this about?’ He indicated the pushcart. ‘How come Billy Norman made it for you?’

  Jeannie swallowed. ‘Jack’s getting quite heavy.’ She gave a nervous laugh. ‘He’s putting on weight – and I asked Mrs Norman what other mothers did when their bairns got too big to carry; she said she’d ask Billy to make Jack a little pushcart. He’s made them before, she said – and Harry, I’m pregnant.’

  ‘You what?’ Harry breathed heavily. ‘Pregnant! Again?’ He let out a gasp of exasperation. ‘We haven’t got on our feet yet! How can you be pregnant again? What’ll we do for money?’ His tone was accusatory.

  ‘I don’t know,’ she said miserably. If he had shown any joy at all at the news, she would have been prepared to put away her fears and be happy. But it seemed that it was her fault. Which it must be, she thought. I must be very fertile.

  ‘So Mrs Norman knows,’ he said. ‘And I suppose she told Billy?’

  ‘I shouldn’t think so,’ she said. ‘She’s not a gossip. And what does it matter if she did? Everybody will know anyway in a few weeks’ time.’

  ‘Mek us that cuppa tea,’ he said flatly, ‘an’ then I’m off out. I’m onny home for three days.’

  She filled a pan with water and placed it on the fire basket. There was no luxury of accoutrements, no ironwork on which to swing a kettle. She’d brought Nan’s kettle with her, but the pan was quicker when the fire was low.

  ‘Will you leave some money?’ she said in a small voice. ‘I’ll slip out and get some meat for supper.’

  ‘What would you have done for food if I hadn’t come home today?’

  ‘Waited for Connie,’ she said. ‘She generally brings some fish home. Then we have fish and potatoes or fish broth. I’ve had to economise on food, Harry. I do my best, but paying the rent is the most important.’

  He nodded, but didn’t speak. Then he got up and put his coat back on. ‘I’ll not bother wi’ that tea,’ he said. ‘That pan’ll tek for ever to boil.’ He fished in his pocket for some money and brought out a handful of coins which he handed to her. ‘There’s enough there for ’rent.’

  Jeannie looked down at the money. ‘And – what about our supper? And for the rest of the week?’

  ‘Haven’t you any work on ’nets?’

  ‘No,’ she breathed. ‘Not since we moved. I haven’t been able to ask anybody. Can you ask about when you’re out?’ she pleaded. ‘Maybe Charlie or Mike Gardiner—’ She saw his face set.

  ‘I’ll see what I can do,’ he muttered and gave her some more coins. ‘I’ll be home ’bout seven.’

  I have to talk to him, she thought as she walked home from the butcher’s. We have to have some kind of conversation, discuss how we’re to manage with another bairn.

  She made the supper, enough for three, and there was a good smell of stewing beef and onions when Connie came in.

  ‘I’m going out,’ she said, after taking off her head shawl, brushing her hair and washing her hands and face. ‘I’m meeting some of ’other lasses.’

  ‘Don’t you want any supper?’ Jeannie asked. ‘Harry’s home.’

  ‘Yeh, I heard his ship was in. No, I – oh, go on then. I’ll just have a bit if there’s plenty.’

  ‘Of course there’s plenty,’ Jeannie said. ‘I did enough for all of us.’

  ‘Thanks,’ Connie said. ‘Do you mind if I don’t wait for Harry? He might be ages.’

  Jeannie didn’t answer, but spooned some meat and thin broth into a dish and put it on the table.

  ‘Is there any bread?’ Connie asked.

  Jeannie took the fresh loaf that she’d just bought and cut a slice without a word.

  ‘Summat up?’ Connie asked. ‘You don’t mind me going out? I shan’t be late.’

  ‘I’m not your mother,’ Jeannie snapped. ‘You can go out whenever you please.’

  ‘Yeh, I can.’ Connie didn’t look at her but concentrated on her food. ‘I’ve nivver had ’chance afore. Allus stuck at home.’

  Jeannie nodded. She couldn’t blame Connie. She was single and free to do whatever she wanted. But, she thought grudgingly, I think I had something to do with that. Without my encouragement you would never have broken free from your family’s iron grip.

  She sat with a blanket over her and Jack after Connie had gone out. I’ll order some coal tomorrow, she thought, but I’ll have to be careful with the money. If I can make the coal last we can have more stews and broths – they’re economical and nourishing. I must keep up my strength. I’ll be feeding three of us and not just two.

  She fell asleep and woke when Harry came in at about eight o’clock. She’d put the pan to one side of the fire so that it didn’t boil dry, and now she slipped it back on to the grate.

  ‘Won’t take long to warm up,’ she said in a low voice. ‘Do you want to have a hold of Jack?’

  ‘No. Put him back in his crib,’ he said. ‘I want t
o talk to you.’

  He seemed quite sober and that made her nervous. ‘What about?’ she asked, tucking the baby up so that he was warm.

  ‘About us,’ he said, sitting down in the chair and staring into the fire. ‘We seem to be at cross purposes most of ’time, and now you tell me that you’re pregnant again.’

  ‘It takes two, Harry,’ she said softly. ‘I didn’t get pregnant on my own.’

  ‘I know. There should be summat to stop it happening.’

  There is, she thought, but that’s up to the man, not the woman. She shrugged. ‘It’s happened, Harry. We have to make the best of it.’

  She gazed at him, at his dark brown hair curling about his forehead and his neck, and knew why she had instantly fallen for him. He had a wistful expression, but he didn’t smile any more, not like he used to, not like when he’d first met her at Scarborough harbour side. Then he seemed merry, exciting and full of promise.

  ‘Why did you want to marry me, Harry?’ she asked. ‘When we were at Scarborough? Why did you say we would be married?’

  ‘I was besotted by you,’ he said softly. ‘That day I first saw you, you looked fresh and rosy and you had such a smile; I was sure that you were ’right girl for me. I thought you’d bring me luck. I’m sorry, Jeannie.’ He looked across at her. ‘I’m really sorry. It was when I got home again ’second time and into ’usual routine that I realized it wouldn’t work. You were lovely, but too good for ’likes o’ me.’

  Jeannie shook her head. ‘We were the same,’ she whispered. ‘And I loved you.’ But it seemed that he didn’t hear her or wasn’t listening.

  ‘And so I forgot about you, or at least I tried to.’ He looked down at his hands clasped in his lap. ‘An’ then when you turned up on ’doorstep that day an’ Nan saw you first, I reckon she saw summat in you; she saw that you were strong and’d be able to sort me out. And having a bairn as well, I think she thought that would mek me settle down. It were Nan who said we should be married. If it had been left to me …’ He pressed his lips together, and then heaved a great sigh. ‘I wouldn’t have.’

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  JEANNIE WAS STUNNED. What else was he telling her? Was he leaving her to manage alone with a child and no income?

  ‘What are you going to do?’ she said in a husky cracked voice that sounded nothing like her own. ‘Are you leaving me? Abandoning me?’

  ‘No!’ He seemed shocked. ‘Don’t think that. What sort o’ man d’ya think I am?’

  Her lips were dry. ‘I don’t know,’ she whispered. ‘I don’t think I’ve ever known.’

  ‘I’ll allus support you, Jeannie. As best I can.’ He frowned as he considered. ‘To ’best o’ my ability, anyway.’

  Jeannie gave a short laugh. ‘I don’t know what that means. Tell me what it means, Harry. You’ll support me! Does that mean that you’ll come home between trips and pay the rent? But we—’ Something occurred to her. ‘Will we be man and wife?’

  He couldn’t meet her eyes. ‘I don’t want you to get upset if I don’t allus come home. I want us to still be friends.’

  ‘But you don’t want to share my bed?’ she said bluntly. ‘So whose bed will you share? You’re a man with an appetite, especially when you’re drunk,’ she couldn’t help adding, her voice bitter.

  Harry shook his head. ‘I wanted us to talk about it, so as you’d know how I felt. I wanted to be honest wi’ you, Jeannie.’

  ‘And what about how I feel?’ She felt hot tears gathering. ‘Don’t you think I have feelings too? I’m seventeen, Harry. I loved you, and because of that I shall have two children to look after and no husband – no proper husband – to share them with.’

  ‘I didn’t say I wouldn’t support ’em; didn’t say I didn’t want to see ’em!’ His tone now turned from apologetic to aggrieved and misunderstood. ‘I’ll still bring my wages home, although mebbe we could look for summat a bit smaller. Less rent.’

  Great fat tears ran down her face. Look for something smaller? He was so angry when she’d moved from Nan’s house. And how could they live in something smaller than this when they had two bairns instead of one? Unless Connie moved out, but she couldn’t ask her to do that: she was settled here and was company when Harry was away. And besides, they needed her money until she, Jeannie, could obtain work.

  She said nothing but dished up Harry’s stew into a bowl, sliced some bread and put it on the table. She waved a vague hand for him to sit and eat, but she couldn’t face food herself, even though she knew she should eat.

  Harry ate all that was in his bowl and then said, ‘I’ll have a drop more o’ that. Very nice.’

  The way to a man’s heart is through his stomach, she thought sourly as she gave him her portion. Poppycock! That’s another old wives’ tale we can disregard.

  She picked Jack up. ‘I’m going to bed,’ she said. ‘I’ll clear up in the morning.’

  He rubbed his hand across his nose. ‘Right,’ he muttered. ‘I’ll lock up.’

  ‘Nothing worth stealing,’ she remarked, loudly enough for him to hear, as she put her foot on the first tread of the stair. ‘I’ve got everything that’s precious upstairs with me.’

  Harry sailed again three days later. He hadn’t shared her bed again but slept downstairs in the chair, but after spending the morning with his mates he’d gone upstairs and fallen asleep on the bed; Jeannie had heard him snoring. She barely spoke to him until the evening before he sailed, and then she said, ‘Harry, I think we should try to work something out between us. I think the shock of my being pregnant so soon has brought all this uncertainty on. It’s worrying, I agree, but we’ll manage.’ She reached for his hand, but he pulled away. ‘Other people do,’ she pleaded. ‘And it makes their marriages stronger. It’s not the end of the world. We should try to get some of that loving back into our lives again.’

  He shook his head. ‘It’s too late, Jeannie. It were my mistake in ’first place. I should nivver have tekken advantage of you – cos that’s what I did.’

  ‘I wanted you,’ she interrupted. ‘Just as much as you wanted me.’

  ‘Aye, but you believed me when I said I wanted to marry you.’ He paused as if considering. ‘I shouldn’t have said that. Cos it weren’t true.’

  She gave up then, for what else could she say? But she was given some hope the next morning when she got up to make his breakfast; he was sailing on the eight o’clock tide and his bag was packed by the door. Before he left he leaned forward and kissed the top of her head.

  ‘See you when I get back, Jeannie. Tek care o’ yourself and ’bairn.’

  ‘You too,’ she murmured, and then turned as Connie came downstairs. She wasn’t yet dressed but wore a shawl over her night shift.

  ‘Cheerio, Harry,’ Connie said. She seemed cheerful, not her usual glum morning self. ‘Have a good trip.’

  Harry glanced at her and nodded. ‘Aye. Hope so,’ and was gone.

  Connie yawned and stretched and helped herself to porridge. She glanced up as Jeannie said, ‘Connie, have you forgotten – you haven’t given me any board this week.’

  ‘Ah, no I haven’t, have I? Can I give you half now and ’rest later?’ She pulled a face. ‘I’ve been a bit of a spendthrift. Going out with ’other lasses.’

  Jeannie gave a tight smile. ‘I’m glad you’ve been getting out, Connie,’ she said. ‘It’s just that Harry’s wages were short this trip, and I need to buy some more coal. I’ve got enough for the rent money, but …’

  ‘Do you think you should look for another house?’ Connie said. ‘Less rent?’

  Her words almost echoed Harry’s and Jeannie sat down opposite her at the table. ‘Where?’ she asked. ‘Where would I look? Is there anywhere cheaper than this place?’

  She hated the area. She still hadn’t got used to the smell of fish meal which permeated the whole road, though Connie said she couldn’t smell it, she’d become so used to it. She hated walking along the run-down terrace, conscious always of c
urious faces peering out of the broken windows. There was no community spirit here, unlike where they had lived before, in Nan’s street. Here, the residents were engaged in keeping body and soul together and a roof over their heads, too engrossed in the business of staying alive to show any concern for anyone else. Not one person she had seen or heard from the neighbouring houses had ever passed the time of day.

  ‘I’ll ask about if you like?’ Connie volunteered. ‘There might be somewhere.’

  ‘No,’ Jeannie said. ‘I won’t bother just now. Maybe when the weather perks up and I can go out and look for myself.’

  Connie spooned a mouthful of porridge, swallowed and muttered, ‘Suit yourself.’

  The weather was improving steadily and Jeannie began to go out more now that she had the pushcart for Jack. She padded it well with a blanket and dressed him in the warm coats that her mother and grandmothers had knitted for him and wrapped a warm shawl over him. She walked along the Hessle Road, familiarizing herself with the area and wondering, though not too seriously, where else they could live at a price they could afford.

  One day she ventured into the town. The day was sunny and promised to be so all day. She packed up a slice of bread and cheese for her midday meal and decided that she might as well stay out for most of the day. There was no reason to rush back. Connie would be at work until tea time and there was no one else for her to visit or talk to, except for Mrs Norman, and she didn’t want to bother her too often.

  She had some kind of freedom now that she had the pushcart and Jack seemed to be happy in it. She’d padded beneath his head so that he was slightly elevated and he looked around as if noticing his surroundings, chortling and kicking his legs.

  Jeannie stopped at the end of Hessle Road, wondering which way to go. Twice before, when she had come to Hull, she had come on the train, so this was the way she went now, heading for the railway station to get her bearings.

  The Paragon railway station itself was a most imposing and grandiose terminal and linked to a splendid hotel, something she had failed to notice on her previous visits, so nervous had she been. The town was much larger and more prosperous than she had anticipated; there were numerous grand buildings holding banks and building societies, theatres, hotels and rooming houses on practically every street she walked down. It was also busier and noisier than she had expected, full of people, horse trams, waggonettes and drays, and children, some of them barefoot and ragged.