‘My Bill’s had a walk down there, Pat,’ Peggy said pleasantly. ‘He’ll appreciate a bit of company.’
‘I could go a pint,’ Pat nodded, glad of a reason to get away. ‘Is Stephen about? I’ll see if he fancies a quick one and all.’
Katie sat down abruptly, snatching up her darning from her chair. ‘I dunno where he is,’ she answered tartly. ‘Yer’ll have to ask Mum. Not that I suppose she knows either. Right man o’ mystery, he is.’
Nora rolled her eyes at Peggy Watts, who held up her hand and shook her head as much as to say, ‘Don’t involve me, Nora,’ and got on with her knitting.
Nora thought for a moment, then looked up at her son-in-law. ‘You go and enjoy yer drink, son. When Stephen turns up, I’ll send him down to yer.’
‘Okay, Nora. I’ll just give the boys their rope first.’ He raised a questioning eyebrow at Katie. ‘If that’s all right with you.’
‘Just tell ’em to be careful, eh, Pat?’
Pat had been over at the Queen’s for less than ten minutes when Stephen Brady came haring round the corner and skidded to a halt in front of Nora, Katie and Peggy Watts. He might have been getting on for sixty years of age but he was still as lithe as a fit forty-year-old.
‘Yer’ll never guess what,’ he gasped, his usually soft Irish brogue made raucous with a combination of breathlessness and enthusiastic glee.
Katie sat stony-faced, not charmed in the least by such behaviour, but Peggy smiled, amused by his childlike excitement, and as for Nora, she beamed with proud pleasure at her husband’s high spirits.
‘And what’s that, that I can’t guess, me darling?’ Nora asked him.
‘Up the road,’ he said, bending forward and grasping his thighs as he tried to steady his breathing. ‘There’s something right peculiar going on, Nora. Yous’ll never believe it; yer’ll have to come and see for yerself.’
‘Peculiar eh?’ Nora said, impressed by the idea. ‘Now calm yerself down, Stephen, and tell us all about it.’
‘There are these men,’ he said, jerking his thumb over his shoulder towards the end of the street, ‘on the corner of Guildford Road. By the pub there. Yer know where I mean? It’s by—’
‘Yeah, yeah, we know, we know,’ Nora interrupted, impatient to hear his story.
‘Well, I’m telling yer, yer’d not believe it unless yer saw it with yer own eyes. A barrel organ, they’ve got, and they’re singing and they’re dancing, and aren’t all the kids from round there sitting along the kerb and clapping and laughing, and the fellers from the pub are throwing pennies and—’
‘What’s so special about that?’ Nora butted in again, disappointed that her husband’s story was so ordinary.
Stephen leant close to them and put his hand to his mouth. ‘Sure,’ he whispered, ‘aren’t they all dressed up as ladies? With frocks, lipstick, the lot!’
Nora burst out laughing. ‘That’ll be the Nancy Boys or the Jazzers, yer daft eejit.’
Now it was Stephen who was disappointed. ‘So they’re nothing special then, these Nancy Boys and Jazzer fellers?’
‘Course they’re special,’ Nora reassured him. ‘Don’t the kids just go crazy for ’em. Tell yer what, why don’t yer take Michael and Timmy round to see ’em? They’d love it.’
Momentarily unsure as to whether Nora was just humouring him, Stephen stared uncertainly at his wife, but he quickly recovered and was off across the street to tell Timmy and Michael the good news. He asked the Milton youngsters if they’d like to go too, but, like wild animals scared by a predator, the hollow-eyed, scrawny-looking kids shook their heads and scampered off along the passageway of number three, calling behind them that their mum had told them to stay close to the house.
‘I didn’t mean to frighten yer mates, Micky,’ said Stephen.
‘That’s all right, Farvee,’ Michael answered in the matter-of-fact tone that only a child familiar with such deprivation could use. ‘They ain’t got no money or nothing so their mum and dad don’t let ’em do nothing ’cos, you know, they can’t give nothing back and they’d be right embarrassed. See?’
Stephen nodded. He saw all right, of course he did. As a little boy his parents had taken him to live in Cork City, escaping from a starved and barren part of the west coast of Ireland, where the success or failure of the potato crop had meant the difference between whether a family would have enough stodge to fill their bellies, or would fade away to life-sapping sickness.
‘Come on then,’ he said, ‘we’ll tell yer mates all about it later. And, I know what, when we get back, I’ll buy yers a farthing’s worth of odds from Edie and Bert’s to share with ’em. How’ll that be?’
‘That’ll be smashing, Farvee!’ Timmy was almost beside himself. Not only was his granddad taking him to see the Nancy Boys, but he was buying him and his mates a bag full of all the bits from the bottoms of the sweet jars that Edie poured into a special jar she kept on the side of the counter by the till. ‘I hope there’s plenty of pear drop crumbs in it.’
‘Don’t you go spoiling yer teas,’ said Katie, obviously not quite so impressed with her father’s promises. ‘And you be careful, Timmy, and keep hold of Michael’s hand.’ She was still hollering instructions after them as, stern-faced, she watched her two youngest sons disappear around the corner into Grundy Street, dragging the heavy, tarred rope behind them, trotting to keep up with the man they had so easily come to call Farvee, but who she still could not bring herself to call Dad.
‘It’s amazing having that man back with me,’ Nora sighed contentedly, folding her arms across her aproned chest. ‘Yer know, it feels like only yesterday . . .’
‘He ain’t changed a bit, Kate,’ Peggy said, peering closely at her knitting, as she tried to hook up a dropped stitch. ‘Still a good-looking man. I remember when I was what, about eight years old, must it have been, Nora, when we first moved here?’
Nora considered for a moment. ‘I reckon you was about that,’ she said. ‘Yeah, I’m sure, ’cos what, I’m nearly eight, nine years older than Peggy, ain’t I, Kate?’
Katie nodded stiffly. ‘That’s about right.’
‘Yeah, that is right,’ said Peggy. ‘Me dad was still alive, God rest his soul, so I must have been about that age.’ She let her knitting fall into her lap. ‘I used to watch your dad, Katie, as he strolled along to the Queen’s of an evening.’ She laughed at the memory. ‘I loved my dad, no one could have loved a man more, but he wasn’t a match on Stephen when it came to having a bit of style and swagger. He was a dandy, that man.’
‘Yer must have a flaming good memory,’ Katie snapped, roughly shoving the sock she was mending into her apron pocket. ‘He was only here five minutes before he buggered off, leaving Mum six months gone and no one to turn to.’
‘Yer mustn’t blame him,’ Nora said defensively. ‘He was only a boy himself. And anyway, he used to send me money whenever he could find work.’
Katie stood up. ‘If it hadn’t have been for my Pat’s mum and dad, me and you would have starved and you know it. Now, I’m going in to make a cuppa tea. Want one, you two?’
‘Yes please, love,’ said Peggy quietly.
Nora waited until her daughter had gone indoors. ‘Yer know, Peg,’ she said reflectively, ‘my Katie’s a clever girl, always has been. But she doesn’t understand about her dad and me. And she never will if she won’t listen.’
Nora shifted in her chair, all too aware of Phoebe and Sooky sitting across the street, straining their ears to twig what was going on. ‘When we came over from Ireland, a pair of kids we were. No idea of the world or what we should do or what anything meant. We was just trying, trying our best to make a life for ourselves and the baby I was going to have.’ Nora dropped her chin, suddenly fascinated by a loose thread on her apron. ‘Yer know, I wish Katie would just try and forgive him, Peg. Call him Dad maybe. Just for me. But it’s as though she’s so set on what she thinks is right, that that’s it. She’ll not bend an inch. It’s like the wa
y she was talking about Pat’s parents like they was saints. Yes they helped us, they helped us a lot, but she knows as well as us what went on in that house between those two. What with Pat’s mum off with the fellers and his dad mad blind with jealousy.’ She lifted her head and turned to Peggy. ‘Everyone has their problems, Peg, don’t they? She should see that, surely?’
Peggy nodded. ‘We all have our problems all right, Nora.’ She finished the row she was on and then folded the knitting round the needles before sticking the points into the fat ball of wool. ‘Look, I know your Katie ain’t a little girl no more, but she’s still your baby, Nora, and yer know how kids get with their mums, even at her age. Stubborn. And they think feelings haven’t been invented until they have ’em ’emselves. They can’t understand that their mums have feelings and all.’ She hesitated. ‘Or that they have needs. If yer know what I mean.’
Nora sighed loudly. ‘Aw, I know what yer mean all right there, girl.’
They sat there in silence for a while, watching Phoebe and Sooky whispering behind their hands and pointing occasionally across at them. Neither Peggy nor Nora bothered to speculate as to the object of the old women’s gossip. It was bound to be something bad about someone or other. Then Katie came back out, carrying a battered tin tray with three cups of tea on it.
‘Give us that here, love,’ said Nora, standing up and taking it from her. ‘Now you sit down and drink yer tea and tell yer mum why yer looking so fed up.’
Katie sipped at her tea. Determined as she had been not to say anything – she had always prided herself on sorting out her own problems – it all suddenly came tumbling out. ‘Look, I know it’s hard for everyone, all this worrying about work and money all the time, and I know we’re better off than we might be if Danny and Molly weren’t both earning, even if they are fetching in kids’ wages and eating like adults. But it’s the way things have got so much worse lately. It’s like nothing goes right – nothing.’
Peggy swallowed her tea, almost scalding her throat in the process, stood up and said, ‘This sounds like family business to me. I’ve gotta be getting off anyway.’
‘No, Peg. Please,’ Katie said, touching her arm. ‘Sit down. I could do with you two telling me if I’m just letting things get to me.’ She laughed mirthlessly. ‘Maybe it’s me age. Maybe I’m going a bit doolally, eh? But it was like with Pat just now and that stupid rope. I shouldn’t have had a go like that. He’s as good as gold to me, that man, and I have to start hollering at him.’
Peggy exchanged a brief knowing look with Nora, and then sat down again.
‘See, part of it’s all this bad feeling between Danny and Molly. It’s really been upsetting me.’ She glanced sideways at her mum. Katie was sure Nora knew what was going on – she was always whispering to Molly about something or other lately – but there was no getting anything out of her, no matter how hard Katie tried. ‘I don’t know if Liz has mentioned anything, Peg, but the atmosphere round that table in there when the pair of them do decide to sit down and eat with us, well, yer could cut it with a flaming knife. Danny’s only gotta look at her the wrong way and Molly’s up in the air like a flipping rubber balloon.’
Peggy opened her eyes wide and exhaled loudly. ‘I don’t like to say nothing, Kate, but Liz has mentioned that there’s something going on.’
‘What?’ Katie was on the edge of her chair. ‘What is it?’
‘Look, all I know is my Liz was saying the other night how she feels torn between the pair of ’em. Don’t know what to do for the best, she don’t. But as to what it’s all about, she ain’t said, and that is the truth, girl. I really don’t know. And, to be honest, I didn’t think it was my place to ask. I reckon she’d have told me if she thought she could.’ Peggy patted Katie’s hand. ‘But yer don’t wanna worry yerself, Kate. Yer know what kids are like, rowing one minute and then best mates the next.’
‘But they ain’t babies no more, Peg,’ Katie said bleakly. ‘Molly’s seventeen and Danny ain’t far off nineteen. And anyway, all this is hardly a five-minute wonder, is it? It’s been going on since Christmas time.’
‘Well, if that’s all yer’ve got to worry about,’ said Nora, leaning back in her chair and folding her arms, ‘I think yer should count yerself a lucky woman.’
‘Thanks, Mum,’ snapped Katie. ‘Yer making me sound a right idiot, like I’m worrying over nothing.’
‘Well, what have yer got to worry about that’s really so terrible?’
‘D’yer want me to list all the things I’ve got on me mind?’ Katie stuck out her hand and began counting them off on her fingers. ‘There’s Sean up to Gawd knows what. There’s the little ’uns growing up into a world where it don’t seem there’s gonna be no future for no one.’ She dropped her hands and leant forward, looking directly into her mother’s face. ‘You tell me how to explain to kids about them marchers? I didn’t know what to say when they asked me about that last lot, them poor buggers from Newcastle, what was staying in Poplar a few weeks back.’ She leant back in her chair again. ‘Then there’s all the stuff on the wireless about all them horrible things happening abroad.’
‘The Good Lord help us and save us, girl,’ said Nora. ‘Sure, yer can’t go taking the troubles of the whole world on yer shoulders. Tell her, Peg.’
Before Peggy had the chance to tell her anything, Katie, quite unexpectedly, began crying. ‘And you,’ she snapped tearfully at her mother, ‘you’re worrying me to a sodding frazzle and all, what with him hanging around the place. I know the bastard’s gonna let yer down again.’
Peggy glanced across the street at Phoebe and Sooky, who were obviously enjoying every minute of this unscheduled entertainment, especially hearing Katie using bad language.
‘All right, Katie, love,’ Peggy calmed her. ‘Don’t give them old bags the satisfaction of seeing yer upset yerself. It’s all this trying to make ends meet all the time. That’s what it is. It’s getting yer down. And Pat’s a good feller, he does what he can.’
‘I know he does, Peg, but it ain’t that,’ sniffed Katie. ‘I’m worried what’s happening to me family. I told yer.’
Nora shook her head in wonder. ‘I don’t know why yer just don’t come out and ask me straight,’ she said calmly. ‘If yer must know, the boys are fine upstairs in their bedrooms and I’m just fine sharing me front parlour and me bed with yer dad.’
If it hadn’t have been for Phoebe calling across the street to them, Katie would have run indoors to hide from the shame of her mother speaking like that, and in front of Peggy Watts of all people, a good Catholic woman whose daughter was seeing their Danny. As it was, Katie’s embarrassment was rapidly transformed into anger.
‘Getting all upset, are yer, Katie?’ Phoebe shouted. She nudged Sooky and jerked her head towards Frank Barber’s house on the corner. ‘What is it? Not seen yer friend for a while? Or is it that girl o’ your’n yer worried about? Been seen around with a strange boy, so I hear. Ain’t from round here apparently. Very dark he is. Looks foreign by all accounts.’
‘And yer’ll be looking at my hand across yer face if yer don’t shut up, you old cow,’ Nora shouted, launching herself off her seat.
Katie grabbed her mother by the arm. ‘Sit down, Mum,’ she hissed. ‘It’ll only give her more to talk about.’
Phoebe wasn’t in the least perturbed. ‘And as for your young Danny, I’ve heard how he’s spending a lot of time hanging around with that Jarvis boy and his cronies. They’re the ones what give out them leaflets, so they say. Them ones that are against the Jews. I’m surprised. “Red Pat”, ain’t that what they call his father down the docks? And yet your Danny’s hiked up with that mob.’ Phoebe gave Sooky a sly grin. ‘I’d have thought that would’ve concerned you, Peggy Watts, ’cos your girl’s seeing Danny, ain’t she? I mean, I wouldn’t fancy no daughter o’ mine getting mixed up with none of them riots they start or nothing.’
‘For Gawd’s sake shut your flaming gob, Phoebe.’ It was unusual for Peggy to
raise her voice, but anyone talking about her Liz was pushing their luck too far.
‘See, Sook, they don’t like the truth, some people. But let ’em put that on their needles and knit it.’ Phoebe was suddenly on her feet, pointing animatedly to the end of the street. ‘And what’s this coming along? Will yer look at the state of him? He’s been up to no good, you mark my words.’
The new object of Phoebe’s attention was Michael. He had just turned into Plumley Street; head bowed, shoulders stooped, and his clothes soaking wet. As he squelched towards her, Katie could see he had bits of twig and weed in his hair.
‘You was meant to be watching the Nancy Boys,’ said Katie in a slow measured tone, as she rose from her chair.
‘We was,’ he said sheepishly. ‘At first, like.’
‘So tell me – I’d love to know – where’d yer go afterwards?’
Michael shrugged and breezily raised his hands, every movement leaving a wider puddle of evil-smelling water at his feet. ‘Nowhere really.’
Katie went to grab him by the shoulders but had second thoughts when she caught a whiff of whatever was dripping from him on to the pavement. ‘Michael, I am losing my temper. What exactly have yer been up to?’
‘Give the boy a chance.’ It was Stephen. He had just appeared with Timmy, who was grimly gripping his grandfather’s hand; both of them were as soaked as Michael.
Katie was momentarily speechless; she flapped her hands ineffectually at the gall of the man. When she had finally composed herself enough to speak, she said weakly, ‘You just shut up. Do you hear me? Shut up.’ She poked herself rhythmically in the chest as she said each word: ‘I am talking to my son. The son that I bothered to stay around to bring up.’ She turned her finger on Michael, waving it in his face. ‘I know what yer’ve been doing, you’ve been swimming down that Cut again, haven’t yer? When I told yer yer wasn’t even allowed near there.’ She jerked her thumb at Stephen without looking at him. ‘And he took yer, didn’t he? There’s no point lying to me, Michael.’
Just Around the Corner Page 24
