‘I put my own name but not my address.’
‘What address?’
‘Eight Brampton Hill.’
‘Rosie Massey, eight Brampton Hill, eh?’
‘Yes.’
‘Well, things seem to be going my way after all. From what I know of Mr Gomex, he’s not partial to our dear Dickie. Here.’ She pulled open her bag and pulled out an address book. ‘Write along there: I authorise Miss Ada Lang to redeem the ring I pledged under the name of Rosie Massey, of 8 Brampton Hill, on February twenty-second. I have lost the ticket…and sign it at the bottom. It mightn’t carry any legal weight but it will help to convince him that I know you, and when I tell him the whole story he’ll likely see it my way and we can come to some monetary arrangement.’ She smiled now with her lips only. ‘That’s after I point out to him that if he doesn’t produce it after twelve months and you fail to turn up there could be some enquiries…Now what about another drink, just for old times’ sake, eh?’
As she turned her face towards the bar, the room door opened again, and as a man entered she exclaimed, ‘Oh, I know this bloke, I was talking to him last night. He could be easy. Ooh-ooh, there,’ she called down the room.
Rosie made no protest, but just stared like a fascinated rabbit as Ronnie MacFarlane came walking towards them.
When she had hailed him Ronnie had looked at Ada Lang, but only for a second before his gaze had jumped to Rosie, and he kept his eyes on her until he reached the table; and not until Ada Lang asked, ‘You looking for me?’ did he blink and turn towards the woman, saying, ‘Yes…No…no, I wasn’t, I was looking for a pal.’
‘Well, make up your mind…Anyway, sit down now you’re here.’ She flicked out a chair with the point of her long shoe, and he looked at it for a moment before he sat down. Then he stared at the table for another moment before, his glance slipping between them, he said, ‘You two know each other?’
‘Of course we know each other. This is,’ the woman jerked her thumb across the table, ‘this is Rosie, Rosie Massey.’
‘I know it’s Rosie Massey.’ Ronnie was staring at the woman now, then slowly turning his head and addressing Rosie’s averted face he said in an odd tone, ‘Hello there, Rosie.’
Slowly Rosie pulled herself to her feet. She had felt sick before but it was nothing to the feeling she was experiencing now.
‘What’s your hurry? Sit down.’ As Ronnie put out his hand to touch her she curved her body from it as if it was a reptile. At this he laughed, a deep laugh, a man’s laugh, yet it sounded like laughter preceding madness.
‘Look, sit down…sit down. What’s your hurry?’ The woman was looking up at her. ‘Anyway wait till those pieces of beef come for you.’ She put out her hand, and Rosie, knocking it aside, snapped, ‘You’ve got what you want, now leave me alone.’
As she walked down the room she was conscious that they were both looking at her and she had the desire to run. She was almost on the point of it when she reached the door, there to be confronted by Jimmy and Shane again. She walked between them and into the passage before turning and facing them.
Jimmy’s brows were down, his lower lip was moving as though it were an independent feature from side to side, as it always did when he was beginning to carry a heavy load.
She was surprised at the steadiness in her voice as she said, ‘It’s a long story, and you wouldn’t believe me if I told you.’
‘We’ll take a chance on that.’ It was Shane speaking. ‘She’s a tart. You know that, don’t you? And an old one at that.’
‘How do you know?’ Her voice was snapping now.
‘Ah, come off it, Rosie, it’s sticking out all over her. An’ what’s more, she was here last night and tried it on with one or two of the lads.’
‘If me mother knew you knew anybody like her she’d go clean up in the lum,’ said Jimmy now, ‘an’ if I catch you with her again I’ll clout your lug, as old as you are.’
‘Steady on, steady on,’ said Shane, pushing his brother with the flat of his hand. ‘Those dames are clever; they make friends with people an’ not everybody can spot ’em. Come on, come on.’ He took hold of Rosie’s arm. ‘Me mother’s been asking for you. An’ for God’s sake, an’ your own,’ he nodded solemnly towards her, ‘don’t let her and that piece meet up.’
‘I’m going home.’ She pulled her arm from Shane’s.
‘Oh no, you’re not, you’re coming back to me ma and we’ll all go home together. Come on.’ Jimmy’s grip was not as gentle as Shane’s, and Rosie found herself being hustled through the door into the main room. Someone had just stopped singing and everybody was clapping. When they reached the table Hannah greeted her with a broad, oily smile. ‘Where’ve you been, me dear?’ she asked. Her voice was thick and lazy sounding.
‘Talking,’ said Rosie.
‘Talking? Who to? Was it young Graham Benson? He was at me a while ago enquiring after you. “How long is she staying?” he asked. “She’s a smasher,” he said. He’s a nice fellow is young Benson, and doing well.’
‘I think I’ll go home, Ma, I’m feeling a bit tired.’
‘Aw, home hell!’ Jimmy looked warningly at Rosie. ‘We’ll all go shortly. Let’s have another round first. An’ it’s your turn, Shane, me boy.’ He turned to his brother. ‘An’ I’ll have a double meself this time, I’m sick of beer.’
There was a babble of talk now and it went over Rosie’s head. She watched Shane go for the drinks and return with them, and as he placed them on the table someone began to play the piano and a voice broke into song, and soon almost everybody in the room was singing.
It was when the community singing ended that Rosie saw Ada Lang and Ronnie standing by the bar. Ada had one elbow on the counter and was looking at Ronnie, but Ronnie, with his broad back tight against the counter, was looking directly at her.
Hannah had seen him too, and leaning heavily towards Broderick, she whispered thickly, ‘Who’s that piece with Ronnie MacFarlane over there? I’ve never seen her here afore. She doesn’t fit in…cheap she is. What’s things comin’ to? She can’t be a member, I’ve never seen her here afore,’ she repeated. ‘He should have his wife with him; aye, he should. She looks loose, that one…’
‘I’m going home, Ma.’ Rosie was on her feet and she glanced at Jimmy defiantly as she made this statement, and Hannah looking up at her and still smiling said, ‘Oh, it’s early. What time is it?’
‘It’s after ten.’
‘Aye, it’s after ten,’ put in Broderick, ‘an’ not far off shutting-up time.’
‘Is it, begod! Well then, just a minute, just a minute.’ As Hannah looked back at Rosie she appeared to be the essence of amenity. ‘Let me drink this an’ I’ll come along. Always go when you’re feeling happy I say, never overdo a good thing. It’s been a grand evenin’. What say you?’ She looked round the table but did not wait for their affirmation, and emptying her glass she rose unsteadily to her feet, crying, ‘Ups-a-daisy,’ and as she staggered slightly she grabbed at Broderick and they both laughed.
‘Where’s Barny and Arthur?’ she asked.
‘Over at yon side,’ said Shane. ‘You get goin’ an I’ll collect them. You go along with them, Jimmy.’ Shane nodded at his brother, and Jimmy said thickly, ‘Aye, I’ll go along with them.’ What his tone implied was that he would go along with Rosie.
And he did go along with her. He preceded his mother and father out of the room, pressing Rosie before him as he waved goodbye to right and left, and swaying and lunging on the crusting slush, he hung on to her until they reached home. Yet he didn’t speak a word to her. Although he was talking all the time all his remarks were thrown over his shoulder to his mother and father, who, arm in arm, came slithering and laughing behind them.
Rosie made no protest whatever against Jimmy’s possessive hold on her. Outwardly, she appeared docile, but inwardly she was in a turmoil. She must get her things together and get out of the house as soon as possible. It wasn’t Jimmy or Sh
ane’s questioning she was afraid of as much as Ronnie MacFarlane’s. Whereas Jimmy and Shane could not believe that she was more than lightly acquainted with a woman like Ada Lang, Ronnie seemed to have gauged the truth from the moment he saw them together. And Ada’s form of introduction had clinched it. When she had left them she hadn’t considered whether or not Ada would give her away, and when she had seen Ronnie looking so pointedly at her she had come to the conclusion that Ada hadn’t said anything. But the fact remained that Ronnie guessed at what the lads didn’t want to believe, and she must get away. When they were all in bed sleeping their drink-drugged sleep, she would bring downstairs just what she could carry, and she would go to Dennis’ until the morning, and from there she would go to her new digs in Newcastle.
Flopping into the big chair near the banked-down fire, Hannah shouted at Broderick, ‘Oh, take me shoes off, lad, they’re killing me.’ Then flinging her arms out towards Rosie, she cried, ‘Have you had a good night? Have you enjoyed yourself, lass? You still dance like a fairy. I came and watched you once or twice. You didn’t know I did but I did. Oh, you were a sight, with the finest pair of legs in the land. I’ve always had the faculty of enjoying a pair of legs, like a man.’ At this she let her head flop back and the laughter gushed from her. And Broderick roared with her, but not Jimmy. Jimmy was looking really surly now. He was sitting by the table, his elbow on it, his head resting on the palm of his hand, his brow puckered and his lip working as if his fuddled mind was trying to puzzle something out.
‘Let’s have a bite to eat.’ Hannah was shouting now as if they were all in another room. ‘I’m as hungry as a hunter. Oh God, oh God, I wish it wasn’t Friday so I could have a shive of meat. But there’s cheese and pickles and cold fish in the pantry. Go on, fetch them out, Broderick; you’re steadier on your pins than me, man.’
‘That I am, that I am. You can’t carry it, girl, that’s your trouble,’ said Broderick. ‘Come on, Rosie. Let’s see what we can rake up.’ He held out his arms to her.
In the quiet of the kitchen, his arm still about her, Broderick attempted to focus his wavering gaze on his daughter, and he asked gently, ‘Are you all right, me girl, are you all right? It’s quiet you are.’
‘Yes, I’m all right, Da. Yes, come on.’ She turned from him. ‘Let’s get the things.’
As they went back to the living room with the food on a tray, Broderick waving a jar of pickles in each hand, the others came in the front way. They were headed by Shane, and as soon as Rosie looked at them and found their gaze directed pointedly towards her she knew that she had been under discussion.
But if the lads were not their usual rowdy Friday night selves, it went unnoticed, because Hannah and Broderick kept up an exchange of quips that roused their own laughter, and all the while Broderick hung on to Rosie, protesting against her wanting to break up the party and go to bed.
It was nearly an hour later, when Jimmy and Shane were making for upstairs, that the front bell rang. It silenced them all for a moment, and Hannah looking about her said, ‘Who can it be at this time of night? You did say Karen was in, didn’t you, Arthur?’
‘Aye, I saw her coming out of the bathroom.’
‘See who it is, Jimmy. See who it is.’ Hannah made the request while Jimmy was already on his way to the door.
‘Perhaps old Watson’s bad next door.’ Shane jerked his head to the wall.
‘Aw, she would have knocked through if that had been the case,’ said Hannah.
‘Perhaps old Ma Parkman can’t get to sleep for us laughin’, an’ she’s come to complain again.’
‘Begod! If she has it’ll be the last time, for I’ll spit in her eye and christen her Paddy…But whist! Whist! What’s that?’
When they all became silent a voice came from the hall, crying, ‘I want to see her.’
‘It’s MacFarlane!’ All eyes in the room said it, and Hannah looked quickly towards Rosie where she was standing at the end of the table, one hand holding her throat. Then as Jimmy’s voice came to them, shouting, ‘Look, get yourself to hell out of here unless you’re askin’ for trouble!’ they all, with the exception of Rosie, moved towards the hall, and there wasn’t a steady gait among them.
Now Ronnie’s voice, thick and fuddled, rose above all the exclamations, crying, ‘I’ll…I’ll take you on…but one at a time, if you’re men enough to do one at a time. An’ after I’ve finished with you all I’ll see her. But see her I will.’
‘Is it mad you are, Ronnie MacFarlane, disturbing a respectable household at this hour of the night?’ Hannah was bawling. ‘Get yourself home and to your wife. Aye, to your wife who at this minute might be bringin’ a soul into the world. It’s ashamed of yourself you should be.’
‘Ashamed? Me? Huh!’
The huh! was cut short by Shane. ‘Are you goin’ to get out,’ he cried, ‘or do you want your bloody teeth knocked in?’
‘Knock me teeth in, will you? Let me tell you, lad, it won’t be like last time. I’ve come prepared.’
There was a pause; and then Broderick’s voice, saying, ‘Knuckledusters, begod! That’s a low trick, Ronnie. Now look, we want no trouble; get yourself away, man.’
‘You dirty sod!’ It was Hannah again; and quick as lightning Ronnie answered her. ‘Dirty sod, am I? You call me a dirty sod, Hannah Massey? With a daughter like you’ve got, you call me a dirty sod?’
‘Shut your bloody mouth and get out!’
As Jimmy’s voice came to Rosie she groped blindly at a chair and sat down. And she held her face in her hands as Ronnie cried, ‘Come a step nearer an’ I’ll let you hev it right atween the eyes. You all know, don’t you? You all know what she is. That’s why you’re scared bloody stiff. But perhaps your dear ma doesn’t know. No, perhaps she doesn’t. You’d be frightened to tell your ma, lads, wouldn’t you? But I’ll tell her…’
‘Get him out!’ It was Shane yelling.
‘Hold your hand…I’m warning you!’ The voice was like thunder. ‘Mind it! Mind it! Afore this fist splits your face open. No, the lot of you big sods’ll not shut me mouth. I wasn’t good enough for your Rosie, was I, Hannah Massey? I mustn’t touch her. An’ begod! I wouldn’t now if you paid me, for she’s a whore! An’ she’s been workin’ under a whoremaster for the last three months with that tart in the bl…’
As the house vibrated to the screams and shouts and the thuds of blows, Rosie put her hands over her ears, and, dropping her face down to the table, she moved it back and forward in agony. Then her head was brought up to see Karen by the table shouting ‘What’s the matter? What’s it all about?’ When she looked at her for a moment before dropping her head again, Karen ran back towards the hall but it was empty now.
Outside Jimmy and Shane and Ronnie were tangled up on the icy road, while Arthur and Barny, trying to separate them, were involved in the blows. And as Hannah, at the bottom of the steps hanging on to Broderick, screamed unintelligibly, light after light appeared in the windows of the houses up and down the street.
The Parkmans and the Watsons were at their open doors, and now Bob MacFarlane came rushing down his steps buttoning up his trousers and shouting, while Jessie followed him, hugging her fur coat over her nightdress.
The light from the Batemans’ front door across the road streamed on to the huddle of men. The Batemans had never been on speaking terms with the Masseys; they considered that the whole family was out of its element living in Grosvenor Road, and now Mr Bateman did what he had wanted to do for a long time, he phoned the police.
When the patrol car, which must have been in the vicinity, came whisking down the street and two policemen joined the melee, Hannah’s loud voice was stilled for a moment and she staggered back against the stone pillar of the gate, exclaiming in a whisper, ‘No! No! Jesus, Mary and Joseph.’
Mr MacFarlane was now aiding the police, as was Mr Bateman, and when the combatants were separated it was hard to tell which was Ronnie or Jimmy or Shane. The only difference between them w
as that one of them lay still on the ground, and Mr MacFarlane, recognising his own, lifted the bloodstained head, shouting, ‘Ronnie! Ronnie!’
The policeman now spoke to Mr Bateman, and once again Mr Bateman was pleased to go to his phone.
At this point Jimmy went to tug himself from the policeman’s hold. He didn’t like policemen. ‘Leave go of me!’ He felt fighting mad now and when he found he was still being held he lashed out with his other arm, and the policeman, losing his balance on the slippery road, fell on his back. He wasn’t down for more than a second, and when he got to his feet again his companion came to his aid and they advanced on Jimmy. Shane, standing swaying on the kerb, was in a bad way, but not so bad that he was going to let the ‘bloody pollis’ get at their Jimmy.
Once again there was a melee in the road, and now Hannah was only restrained by Broderick from joining in, but her voice soared above all the sound, screaming at her brood to give over, to give over. She did not recognise the police van as such until it stopped almost at her feet, and when she did the disgrace cut off her voice and there was nothing left in her but a whimper which said, ‘The Black Maria! The Black Maria!’ The Black Maria had come for her sons.
The road seemed full of policemen now, and they were bundling her lads into the van. Barny went in protesting, ‘I’ve done nowt, I’ve done nowt. Me an’ Arthur’s done nowt.’
He gripped at the side of the van door and, putting his head back on his shoulders, he strained to look at Hannah, where she was being held in his father’s arms, and he cried to her, ‘Ma! Ma!’ before being pushed forward.
They did not put Ronnie MacFarlane into the van, but into an ambulance. His father was allowed to go with him, but his mother stood on the pavement hugging the coat around her shivering body, and as the police van and the ambulance drove away, one after the other, she turned and looked towards Hannah. And Hannah looked back at her, and neither of them spoke.
Hannah Massey Page 19